


Morphine as Truth Serum

by lovetheblazer



Series: Morphine as Truth Serum Verse [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/pseuds/lovetheblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Darren needs help at 3 AM, there's only one person he wants to call: Chris. And thanks to some potent painkillers, he may just end up divulging a little too much about his growing crush on his best friend and co-worker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Late Night Calls and Empty Highways

"Mhhmm..." Chris groaned at the sound of his phone's muffled ringtone. He cracked one eye open and peered at a pile of laundry on a chair near his bed the appeared to be vibrating, the faint glow of the screen shining through a pile of white undershirts. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed what Chris already knew. It was late. Much too late. 3:06 am late. And clearly not an appropriate time for making or receiving phone calls.

Chris had gotten into bed only minutes ago, determined to bang out at least ten pages of his newest screenplay before sleeping in order to keep up with the (only slightly ridiculous) timeline he'd created for himself months earlier. He'd snuck into his bed and been out like a light in mere seconds, already dreading the 6:15 am alarm clock wake-up that was necessitated by his 7 am call time on set.

Chris momentarily considered letting the call go to voicemail and ignoring it until morning, but given that Chris had a younger sister who ended up in the hospital far too often, not answering the phone in the middle of the night was simply a luxury he couldn't afford. "I swear to god, if Dianna or Lea are drunk dialing me again, I'm going to kill them," he mumbled under his breath as he reluctantly dragged himself from the warmth of his duvet in order to retrieve his iPhone. After rooting around in the pile of laundry for a few seconds and untangling the phone from a pair of grey cotton boxer briefs, Chris could finally make out the glow of the screen and the sound of the ringtone. Before his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the screen that now lit the dim room, he recognized the ringtone. Teenage Dream. Chris frowned in confusion. That was Darren's ringtone. Why was Darren calling him at 3:00 am when they both had a 7 AM call?

Chris swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the call, chuckling at the goofy picture of Darren on the display screen. Darren had a habit of stealing Chris' phone while they were on set, taking lots of silly pictures, and leaving them for Chris to find. Once Darren had replaced every contact photo in Chris' phone with pictures of himself so that no matter who called Chris, a picture of Darren appeared. Chris' mom was calling? A picture of Darren wearing a wig and apron and cradling a baby doll popped up. Lea called? That would be accompanied by a shot of Darren doing his best "Lea Michele posing on the red carpet" impression. For Chord's picture, Darren had put on an awful Justin Bieber wig and was doing some sort of complicated-looking boy band dance move. Chris' favorite was probably the picture that popped up for Mark. Darren had carefully sculpted his hair into an overly gelled, very curly mohawk and was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and a classic Mark scowl. He'd never admit to it, but Chris had actually saved the picture before he forced Darren to change back all of his contact pictures. Why? Well, if anyone asked, it was because of how ridiculous Darren's hair looked, but in reality it had more to do with just how well Darren wore the bad boy look. Not that Chris had noticed or anything.

Chris brought the phone to his ear, his curiosity piqued at what would cause Darren to call at such an odd hour. "Hello?" Chris answered sleepily. "Darren?"

"Hey, uh hey Chris," Darren started sheepishly, his own voice sounding rough and sleepy as well. "Sorry to call so late..."

"It's okay," Chris answered automatically. "So what's up? Is everything okay?" Chris trailed off. His stomach flipped slightly at the long sigh that Darren answered with. He sounded...off somehow, but in a way that Chris couldn't quite pin down. At least not yet.

"Uh yeah, I mean...sort of...I think so, but I'm not sure...that's kind of why I'm calling." Darren rambled cryptically.

"Okay Darren? You aren't making any sense and it's 3 AM. Not really the time for speaking in code. Start at the beginning, go to the end, and don't leave out the middle. Got it?"

Darren let out a soft chuckle at Chris' response, his sleep hoarsened voice rumbling quite sexily as he laughed low and deep. Despite the hour, Chris couldn't help but smile at the sound, magnified in the silence of the early morning air. Then Darren's chuckle ended abruptly, replaced by a sharp intake of breath that caused Chris' skin to prickle. And immediately, Chris was sitting forward, flipping on a bedside lamp and rooting around for a pair a semi-clean jeans on the floor. Because that one sound told Chris everything he needed to know about the situation. Something was wrong with Darren. And he needed Chris, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

"Darren?" Chris called out questioningly, his voice softer, worried. "Dare, are you okay?"

There was another pause that seemed to stretch on for far too long, causing Chris' stomach to flip with anxiety. Then Darren was back, his voice sounding tighter and more strained than it had been only seconds earlier, doing nothing to quell Chris' fears.

"Yeah...sorry, just needed...a minute. Um, so I'm sick. And it's probably not a big deal at all, but I was feeling pretty miserable, so I called my friend who's a resident in med school, and she said it sounded like appendicitis and that I needed to go to the ER now. And I hate to ask you to come out at this time of night...but Joey's still gone on the Starkid tour...and I wasn't sure if I could...or should drive...and I just..." Darren blurted out in a rush.

"Darren!" Chris shouted firmly, silencing him. "Stop...just breathe, okay? It's fine. I'm glad you called. I'm on my way."

There was a protracted moment of silence over the line during which the only sound Chris could hear was the sound of Darren's slightly ragged breathing. Each moment of silence brought another pinprick of fear and Chris found himself holding his breath while he waited for a response from Darren.

Finally, he couldn't stand the anxiety any longer and spoke up. "Darren? You okay? You still with me?"

"Yeah...yeah," Darren whispered into the phone. "That's...it's really cool of you to do this, Chris. I appreciate it...more than you know."

"Of course, Dare," Chris responded, unlocking his car door and revving the engine with one hand while he held his cell phone tightly pressed to his ear with the other.

"Okay...so," Darren spoke tiredly, sounded utterly drained by the short conversation. "I guess I'll just see you in a few minutes. You can just come in. There's a key under my mat."

"Nuh-uh," Chris answered while swinging his car onto the freeway. "Where do you think you're going? You aren't hanging up on me. You're going to stay on the line and talk to me until I get there, okay?"

Darren let out a muted groan. "I'm fine, Chris. I'm not like, going to die if I hang up the phone. It's probably just something I ate."

"Yeah, you clearly sound fine. That's why we are going to the ER at 3 in the morning," Chris replied snarkily, his anxiety making the words come out harsher than he'd intended.

There was only silence on Darren's end of the phone, but Chris could hear him breathing.

"Dare? I'm sorry. I just...I'll feel better if you talk to me until I get there. Besides, I need you to keep me awake while I drive. Deal?" Chris asked hopefully, needing to break the tension and hear Darren's voice once more.

"Deal," Darren said softly, sounding distant.  _"Shit,"_ thought Chris worriedly. He really didn't like the way Darren seemed to be sounding weaker and more miserable by the second. Chris took a quick glance around the mostly deserted freeway and decided now was the time to start speeding. A lot.

As Chris sped up, he noticed that Darren had gone quiet on his end of the phone again. He needed to do something to keep Darren talking. "So Darren, where are you right now? Are you in bed?"

"Mmhm, no. I'm lying on the floor in the bathroom," Darren answered slowly.

"That doesn't sound very comfortable. Did you throw up?" Chris asked.

"Uggh," Darren moaned. "Don't remind me. I'm never eating again."

"Never ever, huh? That bad?" Chris asked.

"Nnngg... _Chris,"_ Darren whined.

"Okay, okay...new topic of conversation then. Hmm, let's see. Read any good books lately?"

Darren let out a surprised chuckle that quickly turned into gasp. This time he didn't even attempt to keep his groans of pain silent.

"Darren? Shit...Darren?" Chris called, panicking. "You okay?"

"Mmm'yeah," Darren managed eventually. "Don't make me laugh though..."

"Hurts?" Chris asked sympathetically.

"Yeah...a lot," Darren muttered.

"Sorry..." Chris started. "I'm almost to your place though. I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay," Darren sighed.

* * *

Chris' relief was palpable as he finally pulled into Darren's driveway. It had become increasingly difficult to get Darren to talk which was doing nothing to ease Chris' fears. Chris was out of the car in a flash, almost locking his keys in his SUV in his haste to get to Darren. He knelt at the front door, retrieving Darren's key, and quickly opened the front door to Darren's spacious home. Unlike Chris' immaculate and modern town home, Darren's place was all boy. There was an empty Diet Coke can and pizza box lying on the coffee table. Chris saw a guitar resting against an overstuffed chair, an opened notebook scrawled with Darren's distinctive hand lying next to it. Darren's grey cotton hoodie was slung over the back of another chair and Chris nearly tripped over a pair of Darren's shoes tossed haphazardly in the entry way.

"Darren?" Chris called. "Hey, I'm here." Chris could barely make out the reply from Darren but he was pretty sure the sound was coming from upstairs so he climbed the steps and traveled down a short hallway that led to Darren's bedroom and private bathroom.

Chris pushed open Darren's bedroom door and walked around the bed and towards the bathroom, stopping suddenly at the sight before him. Darren was slumped in a pile on the floor, shirtless and wearing a pair of worn flannel pajama pants. Chris was in the bathroom in an instant, kneeling next to Darren and beginning to look him over carefully.

"Hey Dare," Chris said tenderly, his worry evident all over his face. "How you doing?" He brought a gentle hand to Darren's bare shoulder and gave it a squeeze as his eyes searched Darren's face, taking in the flushed cheeks and fever glazed eyes, clammy forehead, and tensed brow.

"Oh awesome," Darren mumbled feebly. "Never better. You?"

"Better than you, apparently. You look like shit," Chris replied, his tone light, but concern obviously showing through in his face.

"Ouch, you wound me, Colfer," Darren shot back jokingly. He managed a weak smile at Chris as he spoke, though Chris could see that even that was a struggle.

"Sorry," Chris started. "Allow me to rephrase. You look like you  _feel_  like shit. Fair enough?"

Darren merely nodded, chewing on the inside of his lower lip as he started to sit forward, shifting his weight from against the bathtub and towards Chris, his movements slow and halting.

Chris reached out an arm, his hand hovering midair for a moment as he tried to decide on a safe place to touch Darren. He looked back to Darren, perplexed, before speaking,"Here, let me help you up."

Darren bit down on his lip, wincing slightly as he drew his right arm protectively against his side. He shifted forward a tiny bit more before finally extending his left hand, allowing Chris to take it in his. After a moment's hesitation, Chris slid his other arm around Darren's bare back, noticing with growing alarm that despite the coolness of the room, Darren's body was radiating an unnatural heat. "You ready?" asked Chris softly and he waited until he felt Darren nod against him before slowly rising to his feet, pulling Darren along with him as he stood.

Chris was nearly standing at his full height when he felt Darren begin to crumple, listing slightly to the right as his body curled instinctively against the pain. Immediately, Chris looped his arm around Darren's waist, bending his knees slightly to take on more of Darren's weight. "Shit. Darren? You okay? Don't pass out on me, alright?"

Darren let out a groan before replying, his body swaying slightly, anchored only to Chris. "Yeah,...'m fine," he started tightly. "Not gonna pass out. Just dizzy."

Chris let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding. "Oh okay...good. Just...just lean against me, okay? I got you. I'm going to bring you to your bed, 'kay? Then you can sit for a second while I get your stuff together. Ready?"

Darren's head had drooped until it was resting against Chris' shoulder so he settled for nodding into it, too spent to respond verbally. He focused all his attentions on not throwing up or passing out and allowed himself to be slowly led towards his bed. Darren sighed with relief as Chris carefully sat him down on the edge of the mattress, pressing his hand against the sore spot on his right side in an attempt to numb the pain.

Seconds later, Chris was on his knees in front of Darren, looking him over searchingly. And worriedly. Darren allowed his eyes to flutter closed momentarily, taking a steadying breath before opening his eyes again and giving Chris a reassuring smile. "I'm not dying, Chris."

"I never said you were," Chris feigning confusion, though the worried look never left his eyes.

"You are looking at me like you think I'm on death's door. It's unnerving," Darren responded wearily, feigning nonchalance.

"No, I'm looking at you like 'Darren, you idiot. Why didn't you call me sooner when you've obviously been feeling like shit for hours?'" Chris replied, slightly exasperated. He continued, his voice gentler this time. "Seriously though Darren, how long have you been like this?"

"Mmhm, I don't know. Since 7 maybe? But I just figured that I had a stomach virus or something and went to bed early, thinking I'd feel better in the morning. Then I woke up and the puking started and the fever, so...I called you," Darren finished lamely.

Chris nodded, his hand instinctively going to Darren's forehead at the mention of a fever. Darren flinched minutely before his eyes fluttered shut and he let out a sigh, leaning into Chris' touch slightly. "Your hands are freezing," Darren remarked absently.

"No, you're just really hot," Chris replied.

"Always dreamed that you would call me hot," Darren mumbled. "Not exactly what I had in mind, though."

Chris rolled his eyes, looking at his feverish friend fondly. " _Only Darren,"_  Chris thought to himself. Before Chris had a chance to reply aloud, Darren shifted slightly and his face fell for a half second too long, reminding Chris of the urgency of the current situation.

"Right, we should...get you to the ER, yeah? Chris rose to his feet, looking around Darren's bedroom. "Here, let me grab you something to wear. Where are your t-shirts?"

"Second drawer," Darren replied. "Just grab whatever's on top."

Chris was back in a second holding a well-worn University of Michigan t-shirt. He silently handed it over to Darren before turning back to the dresser. "Socks? Shoes?" he asked.

"New Balance sneakers in my closet. Socks...in the top drawer," came Darren's muffled reply. Chris bent down, scooping up Darren's sneakers, before grabbing a pair of athletic socks from the top drawer and making his way back to Darren.

Darren had managed to slide his head through the neck of his t-shirt and his left arm into the arm hole without incident. As Chris looked on, Darren started to raise his right arm, stopping suddenly and drawing in a surprised gasp before curling his right arm against his side, the t-shirt momentarily forgotten. Without a word, Chris stooped in front of Darren once again, feeding his hand through the arm hole before slowly easing it over Darren's right arm and side, all the while taking care to jolt Darren's right side as little as possible. He smoothed the t-shirt over Darren's torso before sittting back on his heels and picking up Darren's socks and shoes in turn, quickly sliding them on and tying them securely.

"Thanks," Darren said sincerely. "God, this is embarrassing. I can't even get myself dressed."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about," Chris reassured, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You can't help that you're sick. Besides, you'd do it for me in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, guess so," Darren replied gratefully, nodding.

"Alright..so hospital?" Chris asked.

"I guess..." Darren sighed. "Let's get this over with."


	2. Of Morphine and Mulan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: A little medical talk, but nothing too squicky. Discussion of needle phobia. Lots of fluff to go along with the hurt/comfort, I promise.

The twenty minute drive to the hospital was eerily quiet, and not just because of the nearly deserted roads. Darren had needed more help getting to the car then Chris had anticipated and the never ending stairs clearly hadn't helped. But it had still been unnerving to see Darren sitting in the passenger seat of Chris' SUV looking pale, sweaty, and utterly miserable. But what had really started to make Chris nervous was how unbelievably still and silent Darren had been throughout the drive. Aside from a few muffled moans when Chris hit a particularly potholed stretch of highway, Darren had remained mostly quiet, speaking only when spoken to, and even then, very little.

Chris had been relieved at how easy the whole sign-in process had been. He'd heard horror stories about LA hospital waits of up to 10 hours. It was hard not to picture a trauma scene straight out of ER with gunshot victims coming in by the ambulance load and people sitting in the lobby holding their partially severed fingers on ice. Luckily, reality was much more mundane. There were only four or five people in the waiting room, none looking too much the worse for the wear. A crying baby, a coughing middle aged woman, and a teenager balancing an ice pack on his elbow sat sprawled on the couches, flicking through magazines and blinking back fatigue.

Chris couldn't be sure if Darren was taken to the back immediately because the triage nurse recognized him or because he simply looked that pathetic, but Darren was seated on a gurney behind a curtained off area within five minutes of walking through the door. But as Chris helped Darren settle back on the bed, he could see just how much the small trip had taken out of him.

"Darren? How're you feeling?" Chris asked, handing him a pillow to tuck behind his head.

"Oh awesome...you?" he asked grimly, failing to muster even a wry smirk.

Chris frowned, taking in the beads of sweat on Darren's forehead. Instead of replying, he reached out tentatively, wincing at how hot Darren's cheek was. "Yikes," he whispered.

"It's hot in here," Darren replied, a little defensively.

"It really isn't. It's freezing in here," Chris responded.

"Well, no worries because I'm pretty sure I can keep you warm..."

Chris snorted... "I'm sure you can. My own little space heater, huh?"

"Exactly..." Darren sighed, with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, his eyes already sliding closed in fatigue.

Chris reached out, sliding his hand along Darren's upper arm in what he hoped was a soothing motion, squeezing gently as he reached Darren's shoulder. "Shh, try to get some rest, okay Dare?"

Darren's only response was a soft exhalation of breath as he slipped into a fitful, feverish sleep.

* * *

Darren didn't get long to rest before the nurse poked her head into the room.

"Hi guys, I'm Jenny and I'm going to be taking care of you tonight. You're Darren, right?" she asked, extending a hand.

"Yeah, that's me," Darren replied with a weak, sleepy grin.

"Okay great, well I'm going to take your vital signs really quickly and then you can tell me what's been going on, okay?"

Darren nodded, obediently opening his mouth for the thermometer and allowing Jenny to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Chris' eyes flickered over to the display, already anticipating that Darren would have a fever.

After a few moments, the monitor beeped. 103.2 degrees.

"Shit," Chris swore under his breath, biting his lip as he looked to the nurse with concern.

"Eh," Darren muttered.

"Eh, Darren? Really? That's the best you got? Usually you want your body temperature to be under a hundred degrees..." Chris shot back, exasperated.

"Okay,  _Mom..._ " Darren replied with an affectionate eye roll. "Seriously though, 103 is not so bad. When I was a little kid, it once got up to 105.5 I started hallucinating that my legos were alive and building themselves into a fortress around me. It was like I could see into another dimension. It was amazing..."

Chris shook his head in bemusement, momentarily speechless. He turned to the nurse, "He's totally fine, right? Or do most of your feverish patients crack jokes and try to charm the hospital staff?"

The nurse laughed long and hard at that, obviously charmed. "He certainly looks good for someone who's feverish and spent the night puking, I'll say that."

"You should see me on a good night," Darren bantered back.

Later, Chris would start to be more aware of Darren's signs that underneath the bravado, he was feeling pretty miserable. It was his stillness that gave him away. Darren Criss, television, stage, and internet star, almost never sat still. This was apparent from his resume, but it was also apparent to anyone who'd ever spent five minutes with the guy. He was always in a perpetual state of motion. Even while having a conversation with friends, Darren would put a hand on someone's knee or rub his shoulders or dance and gesticulate wildly to illustrate a story he was telling.

But Darren Criss, current hospital patient, had remained in one position for almost the entire night. He was slumped against the gurney in a way that managed to look both incredibly uncomfortable and awkward while also giving off an air of casual indifference as if at any moment, Darren would sit up, roll his eyes, and say "I have no idea why I'm at the hospital. I'm totally fine." But Darren wasn't fine. Chris hadn't failed to notice that his hand had been protectively splinted against his right side since he'd picked Darren up from his apartment hours ago. And while Chris had done his best to honor Darren's request that he not make him laugh since laughing hurt, Chris noticed how Darren braced himself for other small movements like coughing or eve sipping water. In the past on more than one occasion, Chris had (affectionately) yelled at Darren, "Oh my god, can you please just sit still for five minutes?" when Darren's manic energy started to make Chris exhausted or dizzy. But now, Darren's stillness was causing an ache in the pit of Chris' stomach as it continually reminded him that Darren wasn't okay. That he was in pain. And worst of all, that Chris could do little to fix it.

* * *

The nurse worked with quick efficiency as she continued her exam. Whatever burst of earlier energy Darren had gained from his short nap seemed to have long since faded away, and Chris couldn't help but notice how quickly the witty banter and charming smiles had been replaced with nods and grunts in response to the nurse's seemingly endless questions.

"Okay, almost done," the nurse reassured with a sympathetic smile. "I just need you to slide this hospital gown on. You can leave your pajama pants on as long as they don't have any metal on them. I have a feeling the doctor's going to want to order a CT scan, so we might as well get you ready for it now.

Darren frowned, taking the folded gown with his left hand, his right arm still pressed against his side. With a groan, he pushed himself up on one elbow, trying to sit upright.

Chris was on his feet at Darren's side in an instant, sliding a hand around Darren's back and helping him slowly sit up, rubbing across Darren's back and shoulders in smooth circles as Darren let out another low moan.

"Shh, I got you," Chris whispered, taking the folded hospital gown from Darren's hand before reaching for the hem of Darren's well worn Michigan t-shirt.

Darren flushed red, embarrassed at how utterly helpless he was at the moment. "Chris, you don't have to..." he started.

"Hush, Darren... Just let me help you," Chris answered firmly, sliding Darren's t-shirt over his head before Darren had time to protest. Darren shivered involuntarily at the contrast between the cool hospital air and his fevered skin, goose bumps erupting all over his torso. Chris quickly fed each of Darren's arms through the armholes of the baggy hospital gown, slipping behind Darren momentarily to tie the neck of the gown in a loose knot.

"Okay, all done," Chris announced softly, sliding an arm around Darren's shoulders as he watched him sway slightly, struggling to stay upright. With his free hand, Chris quickly fluffed Darren's pillows, positioning them behind Darren's head before slowly lowering him back to the bed.

Darren's eyes were closed when Chris looked down at him, his face tight. After a moment, Darren blew out a slow, shaky breath and opened his eyes, gazing up at Chris with an unreadable expression on his face. "Thanks," he murmured, almost shyly. Chris answered by giving Darren's shoulder a quick squeeze before scooting back to his perch on the other side of the bed, giving the nurse room to complete her exam.

"Great," the nurse replied. "I'm just going to lift up your gown for a second here," she continued. "Can you show me where it hurts the most?"

Darren nodded, reluctantly pulling his arm away from where it had been protectively splinted against his side. He slid up his gown and pointed to spot halfway between his hip and belly button on his right side.

The nurse nodded, making a quick note on the small laptop balanced on her knees. "Okay, now I'm just going to feel around a bit. Tell me if anything hurts a lot more than usual." She began gently palpitating Darren's abdomen. Darren immediately jerked, biting down hard on his lower lip as the nurse's hand made contact with his side. "Sorry, my hands are cold," the nurse apologized.

Darren closed his eyes, focusing all his energy on not crying out as the nurse slowly poked and prodded his tender side. But he couldn't keep silent as the nurse pressed down hard on the spot that hurt most, causing Darren to feel as if he'd been stabbed in the stomach with a white hot fireplace poker. The noise that escaped his mouth barely sounded human, a high pitched whine better suited to wounded animal, and it took Darren several seconds to realize that the noise was coming from him. He fisted the blanket in his hand, holding on for dear life as he focused all his energies on not crying or throwing up. After a few seconds, Darren regained his voice, muttering a breathless "Shit," under his breath as the pain continued to crest, the nurse still pressing firmly on his side.

"Darren? I'm guessing that's the spot that hurts the most, right?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah," he gasped, silently begging the pain to end.

Chris watched Darren's ordeal play out, his fingers itching with the desire to comfort Darren in some way. After a moment's hesitation, he reached out, settling for placing a steadying hand on Darren's forearm, stroking up and down slowly, all the while wishing he could do something more to ease Darren's pain.

"Okay, almost done torturing you, I promise," the nurse replied apologetically. "I'm about to move my hand but I need you to tell me if it hurts more when I'm pressing on your side or when I take my hand away, alright?"

Darren simply nodded, waiting.  _Surely nothing can be worse than what the nurse had already done, right?_  Wrong.

If before was being stabbed in the stomach with a fire poker, what came next would be akin to being torn apart by something with razor sharp teeth. While also being stabbed. And shot. And about a hundred other creative tortures that Darren's mind simply couldn't process, because  _fuck,_ that hurt.

Darren was groaning again, this time low and guttural rather than a high pitched whine. His vision whited out for a minute, making it hard to tell if his eyes were opened or close. Suddenly, there was a steadying hand at this temple, stroking gently.  _Chris._ And while it didn't make much sense, Darren was convinced that Chris had some sort of magical touch because the completely involuntary groaning suddenly ceased, and while he was still sweaty and wracked with pain and completely miserable, he somehow still felt a tiny bit better at the reminder that Chris was there.

"Okay, sorry about that," the nurse spoke apologetically. "I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, but it looks like it hurt worse when I took my hand away. Am I right?"

Darren could only manage a pitiful nod.

"You poor thing," the nurse murmured. "We're going to get you feeling better soon, Darren. I promise."

Chris gave Darren what he hoped was a reassuring smile, continuing to stroke his hair while trying hard not to think about the cries of pain that were still echoing in his brain, making him ache.

"Alright," the nurse started, climbing to her feet and gathering the laptop, "so here's what's going to happen next. I'm going to give the information I've gathered from your exam to the doctor on call. Then he'll put in some orders for tests. He's going to want to draw some blood, get an IV started, and do some imaging to get a look at what's going on internally. He'll also write orders for some pain medicine and probably something to get your fever down. Once we get all the test results back, he'll be in to examine you himself, and we'll go from there. Okay? Any questions?"

Chris shook his head, slightly overwhelmed.

But Darren did have questions, several in fact. His mind was buzzing with all the things that the nurse had mentioned that he really, really didn't want to do. Or have done to him, rather. But there was one question high atop his list.

"Yeah actually," Darren managed, with no small amount of effort. "What's wrong...with me? Is it my appendix? Or...?"

"Well, I'm just a nurse...It's the doctor that will make the official diagnosis and he won't know anything for sure until all the test results come back."

Darren gave the nurse a pleading expression, anxiety radiating off him in waves.

The nurse sighed, quickly glancing toward the partially open curtain to ensure no one was nearby before stepping forward, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "You didn't hear this from me...but yeah, it looks like a pretty textbook case of appendicitis. The good news is that your vital signs are good, aside from the fever, which means you probably caught it fairly early. If it is your appendix, the doctors here will have you all fixed and back on your feet in no time.

Now it was Chris' turn to worry, the question already on his lips. "So if it's his appendix, he'll have to have surgery, right? How soon? And what's the recovery like?"

"Listen guys," Jenny admonished, holding up a hand. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, okay? We still have to confirm if that's what we're dealing with here. But to answer your question, they're going to want to remove his appendix as soon as possible if it's appendicitis. I'm guessing that they'd try to get you on the schedule for surgery in the morning...early afternoon at the very latest. They usually do the procedure laproscopically now which means that patients can go home a lot sooner. Usually the day after the surgery, assuming there are no complications. But for now, Darren, I just need you to take it easy and try to get some rest. I should be back pretty soon to draw some blood and start an IV so I can get you some medicine for the pain, okay?"

Chris was watching Darren carefully, and this time didn't miss the involuntary shudder Darren gave as the nurse mentioned drawing blood and starting an IV. Just something he'd have to file away for later.

"Okay guys, I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, Darren, I don't want you getting out of bed without help because you're bound to be pretty shaky on your feet between the fever and the pain in your side. The call button's right here if you need anything." The nurse stepped into the hallway, sliding the curtain closed completely behind her, leaving Darren and Chris alone to process everything.

There was a moment of shared silence that passed between Darren and Chris, both of them clearly overwhelmed by this new information.

Chris watched Darren exhale a shaky breath, looking unsteady and near tears.

Darren was staring at the wall, studiously avoiding eye contact with Chris, even as he felt Chris' gaze upon him. He was perilously close to falling apart, the fatigue, anxiety, and pain threatening to knock down any strength or resolve that remained. He was so glad that Chris was with him, and yet, part of him longed for Joey or Meredith or Chuck or anyone, really, who'd already seen him at his worst. Because all three of them already knew just how big of baby Darren really was, having had to hold his hand to get him through shots at the doctor or practically pin him to the bed that one time he'd needed four stitches to his knee. And while Joey swore up and down that he'd never tell another soul, he was pretty sure that all the Starkids had shared a laugh about the time Darren had been laid up in bed with the flu and insisted that Joey feed him soup because it hurt too badly to lift his arm.

"Darren?" Chris called.

"Hmm?" Darren answered noncommittally, his fingers fidgeting with the threadbare blanket that covered him.

"Hey," Chris tried again, his voice softer, tender even. "Darren, look at me."

Slowly, Darren's gaze traveled up to Chris, meeting his eyes reluctantly.

Chris gazed back at him worriedly, seeing the pain, fatigue, and anxiety reflected back in Darren's eyes.

"Darren..." he said again, the word hanging between them for a long, charged moment.

"Hi..." Darren said at last, wanting to break the tension.

Chris smiled at Darren, a little sadly, still not sure what to say to make things okay. He was so used to Darren filling the room with his voice and energy and thoughts. To see Darren so quiet and still was yet another unnecessary reminder of what both of them were trying to avoid discussing. "So..." Chris tried..

"So..." Darren echoed back wearily. "This sucks."

"Yeah," Chris sighed. "It really does."

Darren's eyes flickered down to the blanket again, his fingers twisting a loose thread back and forth between his fingers. "I'm sorry, Chris," he all but whispered softly.

"Sorry?" Chris asked gently. "Why are you sorry?"

"That you have to deal with all of this... that I pulled you out of your bed at 3 AM, that you had to dress me, and that you're stuck taking care of me...I really appreciate it, but I just feel bad..." Darren let out in a rush, still not making eye contact.

"Okay, Darren stop..." Chris admonished. "Seriously, you have to stop apologizing. First of all, you can't help that you're sick. And while I'm not happy you're feeling bad, I am happy that you called me. I want to be here. I want to help. Okay?"

"Okay," Darren said, chewing on the inside of his cheek anxiously.

"No Darren, I mean it..." Chris said, reaching out to stroke Darren's upper arm as he spoke. "Besides, I already told you, I know you'd do the same for me in a heartbeat, right?"

When Darren didn't reply, Chris called out again. "Hey, Darren...c'mon, look at me."

Darren looked up then, his eyes locking with Chris'.

"Right?" he asked again.

Darren nodded at last, pausing momentarily before mumbling something half under his breath.

"Darren? What was that?"

"I just said that I doubted I'd be as good at it as you..."

"As good as me at what?" Chris asked, confused.

"As good at taking care of you as you have been at taking care of me. At the whole hospital thing. Seriously, you're really good at this. I'm starting to suspect you're a little bit magical, Colfer." Darren replied, a slight smile on his lips.

Chris smiled warmly. "I've had a lot of practice."

"Oh, right..." Darren said, nodding, a moment of shared understanding passing between them.

"Whereas I've had absolutely no practice at all..." Darren finished after a minute, wincing a little as he tried to shift his body minutely, immediately regretting the half-hearted attempt of being more comfortable as pain flared in his side.

Chris smiled sympathetically. "You okay?" he asked.

Darren merely nodded, forcing himself to take as deep of a breath as he could tolerate, letting it out slowly.

"So you've never been in the hospital before?" Chris asked gently.

Darren shook his head.

"Never had surgery? Not even outpatient?"

Again, Darren shook his head, growing anxious at the reminder.

"Ever had an IV?" Chris asked, remembering Darren's earlier shudder.

"Nope," Darren replied, biting his lower lip. After a moment's pause, he gathered the courage to ask Chris, "What about you?"

"Yeah, a few times...when I had surgery for one," Chris answered, fingers trailing up Darren's bicep with feather light strokes.

"What'd you have surgery for...?" Darren started. But before Chris could answer, Darren remembered, reaching up a hand to trace the thin white scar on Chris' neck without thinking. "Oh right.."

Chris shivered slightly at the feel of Darren's too warm hand against his neck, momentarily stunned.

Darren felt Chris stiffen slightly under his touch and pulled back, embarassed. "Sorry..." he mumbled.

"Hey, what did I say about the sorrys?" Chris scolded without an ounce of heat behind it. "No, I just wasn't expecting that...and even your hands are hot," he continued, his hand automatically traveling upward to press against Darren's forehead and cheeks in turn, confirming that his fever was going nowhere but up.

"Mhmm...and your hands are still freezing," Darren said absently, his eyes slipping closed as a relieved groan escaped his lips.

"Sorry," Chris said, quickly removing his hand from Darren's cheek.

"No, don't apologize. It felt amazing... In fact," Darren continued, reaching for Chris' hand, and resettling it over his forehead. "Much better...it's like my own personal ice pack."

Chris smiled down at Darren, relishing the opportunity to help comfort him in a concrete way. "Ice packs and space heaters, huh? Good to know that if the whole acting thing doesn't work out, we've got second careers as appliances on reserve."

Darren let out a snort of laughter at Chris' comment, immediately rekindling the fire in his side.

"Oh shit," Chris said as Darren let out a low groan, wincing as he grabbed his side. "Sorry Dare...I'm sorry." He stroked along Darren's temple, brushing back sweaty curls. "Just breathe...It'll pass in a second, okay?"

Darren rode out the wave of pain, letting the sensation of Chris' hand in his hair ground him. "Chriiis," he whined, once he'd regained his voice.

"I know, I know...I'm not supposed to make you laugh. Sorry! See, you spoke too soon. I'm not as good at the whole taking care of people thing as I seem," Chris answered guiltily.

"'S'okay," Darren murmured. "I forgive you." He turned to look at Chris, his face suddenly serious. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Dare. Anything," Chris replied instantly.

"Did it hurt?" Darren started, his voice sounding small and frightened. "When you had to get an IV? Was it bad?"

"Oh, uh..." Chris started, his mind racing at the gears started to click into place. He remembered Darren's earlier shudder at the mention of getting blood drawn and looked at the anxiety written all over Darren's face right now. "It hurt a little bit, but not that bad, honestly. No worse than a bee sting. And once it's in, you can't really feel it."

"Okay, my turn to ask a question," Chris announced, his hand stilling in Darren's hair as he gazed down at him.

"Umm, okay..." Darren replied hesitantly.

"Darren, are you scared of needles?"

Darren let out the breath he'd been holding in a huff, relieved and embarassed in equal measure. "That obvious, huh? Scared is putting it mildly. Terrified is probably a more accurate descriptor."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Chris asked, barely suppressing the cooing sound that he was aching to make. It's not that he wanted Darren to be scared or miserable, it's just that seeing Darren so  _vulnerable_  was almost painfully adorable, and all Chris wanted to do was gather him in his arms.

"What and lose the small scrap of dignity I have left?" Darren groaned. "Or at least the small scrap of dignity I  _had_  left until you had to undress me. And not in the sexy way."

Chris couldn't help the fond chuckle that escaped from his lips, causing Darren to frown comically. "See?" Darren gestured. "This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not laughing at you. Just at the 'not in a sexy way' comment. But seriously, I'm the guy that wants to help, okay? Only problem is that I'm not a mind reader. So you've got to talk to me. Is this just a fear of needles or are there other things?" Chris asked, more gently this time.

"Umm, I'm terrified of surgery too, for obvious reasons. I'm not a big fan of hospitals or doctors either. And I'm a huge wimp. I think that about covers it," Darren spoke flatly.

"You aren't a wimp, Darren. Quite the opposite in fact. I've seen how much pain you are in. You're doing great." Chris soothed, stroking Darren's hair.

"Uh no, I'm a wimp. Don't get me wrong, this hurts like a bitch, but I'm definitely not the suffering in silence type. And I'm sure I'm going to be a disaster when it comes time for the IV...and don't even get me started on the surgery," Darren continued, his voice shaking slightly.

"Darren, look at me..." Chris commanded, sliding a finger under Darren's chin and tilting it up to look at him.

"I'm here, okay? I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We'll get through it together."

Darren nodded and sniffled, already perilously close to tears.

"Shh, Dare," Chris whispered, his hand gliding down to stroke Darren's cheek. "It's going to be okay."

"Scared..." Darren murmured, not quite sure if he was saying it aloud.

"I know, honey... Tell me what I can do to help. Want me to call your parents?"

Darren took a breah, forcing himself to swallow hard against the lump in his throat. "No, can't."

"Why not?" Chris asked.

"They're in the Phillpines visiting relatives for the next few weeks."

"Oh...shit," Chris said.

"Yeah..."

"What about your brother?" Chris tried.

"On tour. Can't remember the exact location, but somewhere on the East Coast, I think?" Darren replied.

"Fuck...and Joey is too?" Chris continued.

"Yup, Joey and pretty much all my other Michigan friends are on the Starkid tour. There's no one else to call really, besides all the Glee people and I figured we should wait to call them till we know what's going on," Darren answered dejectedly.

"That sucks, Darren. Your body has pretty terrible timing," Chris said.

"Tell me about it..."

"Want me to call my mom?" Chris asked, only half joking.

"Huh?" Darren asked, honestly confused.

"I don't know...I just thought you probably wanted your mom, and since your mom is out of the country, I'd be happy to loan you mine. She's really good at the whole mothering thing. And she's totally obsessed with you, as you are well aware. Probably a stupid idea..." Chris trailed off, hating how helpless he felt to calm Darren down.

"No, no...not stupid," Darren replied after a second's pause. "It's really sweet. A little weird, but sweet. I'm just not sure how I feel about a loaner mom. It feels a little like cheating on my own mom. And I doubt your mom would enjoy you pimping her out like that. I'm sure she has standards, Christopher."

"Oh, I don't know about that..." Chris answered, a wry grin on his face. "She did have  _me_ , after all, so how high can her standards be?"

"Okay, Emmy nominated and Golden Globe winning Chris Colfer... Yeah, I can tell your mom is really slumming it with you," Darren joked fondly. He was quiet for a minute, before he continued, softer than before. "Have I mentioned that I tend to ramble when I'm nervous? You can probably just ignore about 70% of what I'm saying at the moment.

Chris stroked his thumb over Darren's cheekbone. "You hadn't mentioned that, but you didn't really need to. I kinda figured... I do the same thing. But honestly, Darren, aside from the loaner mom, what can I do to help?"

"I...I don't know, really. Just  _stay_ , I guess?" Darren replied after a moment's consideration.

"That's a given," Chris replied automatically. "You don't even need to ask for that. I'm not going anywhere. What else?"

"Uhh...distract me while they are doing it? Maybe you can tell me one of your epic Colfer stories?" Darren suggested.

"Done. What else?"

Darren dropped his gaze to the mattress, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Warn me when it's about to happen. I can't stand to watch, but it helps to know when they are going to stick me."

"Piece of cake," Chris answered. "Anything else that would help?"

Darren paused for a moment, trying to decide if he should ask for what he  _really_  needed. He thought back to Chris dressing and undressing him with a slight shiver, and realized that any boundaries that he'd tried to keep between loving Chris on camera and off had long since been abandoned anyways.

"Hold my hand?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course," Chris breathed, immediately intertwining his fingers with Darren's.

* * *

After a half hour of nervous anticipation, Jenny finally returned, carrying what to Darren looked like very ominous tools of torture. Before she got to work, Chris had quickly explained the situation and Darren's fear of needles. Luckily, Jenny was quite sympathetic, reassuring Darren that she often worked in pediatrics, so she was really good at helping patients through blood draws and IVs. That information was vaguely calming, but did nothing to boost Darren ego as it only confirmed that he was quite literally being a big baby. The nurse had obviously sensed Darren's discomfort, and had explained that she could start the IV first and then draw the blood through that, minimizing the whole ordeal to one needle stick, most likely. While Darren understood that what the nurse was offering was a pretty good deal, all things considered, it still involved a needle, and Darren was still quite honestly terrified. But then Chris squeezed his hand reassuringly and prompted him to turn until he was facing away from Jenny and her assorted instruments of torture and instead staring directly into Chris' crystal clear blue eyes, and Darren had the fleeting thought that just maybe, possibly, he could do this.

"Okay, here goes nothing," Darren announced nervously, trying to focus on Chris' face in front of his, steady, warm, and solid. He gripped Chris' hand a little tighter, wondering absently if he was going to leave bruises. "I'm gonna try my best not to freak out, not that this whole affair isn't going to be very high on dignity...or manliness for that matter. Consider yourself warned."

Chris' eyes grew wide at Darren's last comment, causing Darren to start panicking in earnest.

"Chris? What is it? Is the needle that massive or something? Oh god..." Darren blurted.

"What? No, no...shh, Darren. Everything's fine. The nurse is still getting the supplies ready. Deep breaths, remember? In and out... No, I was making that face because your comment reminded me of something and I just came up with a totally brilliant way to distract you. You ready to find out what it is?"

"I guess?" Darren said, whimpering a tiny bit and sliding his eyes closed as the nurse suddenly ran a damp alcohol swab over the top of his hand. "Shit, Chris..." Darren whined. "Distract me? Please?"

"Shh Darren..It's okay. I'm right here. Just focus on me, alright? The nurse is just cleaning off your hand with some alcohol. Nothing to worry about it. Now she's going to wrap something around your arm to make it easier to find a good vein. It's not gonna hurt, but it might pinch a little."

"Ch-Chr-iiis," Darren stuttered out, starting to cry a little, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his increasingly shallow breaths.

"Honey, open your eyes," Chris commanded, his voice low. He pressed his forehead against Darren's momentarily, waiting until Darren pried his eyes open and locked his gaze with Chris' yet again. "Feel my hand, Dare?" Chris asked, squeezing gently. "You're not alone. You're safe. I've got you, okay?"

"Right now, I want you to try to forget about the hospital. You aren't here. We're somewhere else."

"Where are we?" Darren sniffled.

"We're at one of your shows. You are about to go onstage for a sold out show at the biggest venue you've ever played. The crowd is cheering already. They can't wait to see you."

"Then what?" Darren asked, his voice still shaky but more solid than it had been only minutes earlier.

"You walk out on the stage and the crowd goes wild. They can't wait to hear you sing. And you're going to open with one of your all-time favorite songs. An absolute classic."

"What song?" Darren asked, honestly curious, feeling himself more and more drawn into Chris' story minute by minute.

Chris smiled and began to hum the opening bars under his breath.

" _Let's get down to business..."_ Chris sang.

"Oh my god." Darren breathed, rolling his eyes a little, even as he appreciated how secretly perfect the song was. If only Chris knew just how often he put that song on when he needed a quick pick me up, whether it was to boost his energy at the gym or psych himself up for a long night of song-writing.

" _...to defeat the Huns."_

Chris glanced back to the nurse quickly, trying to gauge her progress. She nodded, signaling Chris as she picked up the needle.

"Dare...I need you to take a nice deep breath for me, okay? You're going to feel a little stick but it's going to be over in no time. Just focus on me, honey. Concentrate on my voice and the feel of my hand."

" _Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?"_

Chris kept his gaze on Darren, anticipating his reaction as the nurse slowly slid the needle and hollow cannula into his hand.

Darren whimpered loudly, his face blanching. Chris could see his eyes blanking out, no longer locked with Chris' own.

"Shh, I know, Darren. I know it hurts. Just breathe. It's almost over. You're doing great. Just look at me, Dare. Stay with me, honey," Chris encouraged tenderly.

" _You're the saddest bunch I've ever met but you can't bet before we're through... Mister, I'll make a man out of you."_

"Chris, Chris...nghh Chris," Darren moaned.

Chris leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to Darren's temple before responding. "I'm here...what do you need, sweetheart?"

"I- I..." Darren started, still crying a little. "Keep singing?" he finally managed through his tears.

* * *

Ten minutes and several verses of "I'll Make a Man Out of You" later, Darren was finally well on his way to la-la land, his IV having been placed and medicines administered. As Jenny left the room with promises to check on them again soon, Chris scooted his chair a little closer to Darren's bedside, brushing sweaty locks of hair off Darren's clammy forehead, still humming a little under his breath.

Darren sighed appreciatively as his eyes slid closed.

"Feeling better?" Chris asked with a relieved smile.

"Much."

"Good drugs?"

"Oh god, Chris, you have no idea..." Darren slurred.

"I'm just glad you're feeling better," Chris said fondly. "And your face is kinda hilarious."

"Mhhm, I swear I would marry this stuff if I could. What's it called again?" Darren mumbled.

"Morphine?" Chris answered, bemused.

"Ahh Morphine, how I love thee. I'm thinking a spring wedding."

"You're ridiculous..."

"You're just now figuring this out?" Darren murmured absently. "Stop harshing my buzz."

Chris chuckled at that, his nose crinkling. "Fair enough. Get some sleep, Dare. You've earned it."

"Mm'kay," Darren answered, snuggling back into the pillows a bit more. Slowly, he lifted his hand, still intertwined with Chris' own, resettling it over his heart before letting the drugs pull him under, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Chris simply watched Darren for several minutes, taking solace in the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his face went slack as he slept, all signs of the earlier tension and pain fading away. As Chris gazed at his sleeping friend, he felt his chest flood with a strange warmth that he couldn't place or explain. It was just relief, he finally decided. Relief that Darren was feeling better. But there was still one question that Chris couldn't explain away. If it was just relief, why was it coupled with such longing?

* * *

Darren mostly slept for the next few hours, only waking for a minute here and there to answer a doctor's question or have his vital signs taken. Chris stayed by his side the whole time, only separating from Darren out of necessity while Darren had a CT scan. Darren hadn't been thrilled about leaving Chris, even for a few minutes, but did so reluctantly after Chris had assured him multiple times that there were no needles involved in the scan, managing a weak smile when Chris kissed his forehead and told him to smile pretty for the camera.

Not long after the scan, an older doctor in a white coat had appeared, confirming that Darren did indeed have appendicitis and that he'd need surgery. Luckily, the doctor echoed Jenny's earlier sentiment that they'd caught it relatively early and his appendix hadn't ruptured, so it would be a fairly routine operation. Darren was put on the surgery schedule for 11 am and given more fluids and antibiotics.

When it was close to Chris and Darren's shared call time, he'd texted Ryan and the other Glee staff, explaining the situation. They were understanding, promising Chris that they'd give him and Darren the week off from filming, agreeing to shoot around their scenes for now. Relieved, Chris moved to the next item on his to do list, which was notifying the other Glee actors. He knew he'd catch a lot of heat if Lea or Diana heard about Darren's surgery from Ryan or Ian instead of him, so he typed up a quick mass text, promising to keep everyone informed on Darren's condition and agreeing to let them all know when it was safe to visit. The outpouring of love and concern that followed had been swift, overwhelming, and utterly predictable, given how adored Darren was on set. Chris knew it was only a matter of time before Darren's hospital room would be flooded with visitors, flower bouquets, fruit baskets, and balloons.

Chris was flicking through the to do list on his phone again when a low groan startled him. He looked over at Darren just in time to see Darren's eyes fly open before he suddenly lurched forward, draping himself over the bed railing with a whimper. "Nggh Chris, gonna..."

Chris didn't wait for Darren to finish the sentence, having a pretty good idea of what was coming next. He quickly grabbed the empty wastebasket on the floor near the bed, lifting in just in time for Darren to empty the meager contents of his stomach into the wastebasket. Chris rubbed Darren's back as he retched, whispering reassurances all the while. "Shh Darren, it's okay..."

After a few moments, the retching stopped and Darren rested his head against the bed railing, looking more pitiful than Chris had ever seen him look before.

Chris' hand trailed up to Darren's hair, wiping a sweaty curl from his forehead. "Did you get it all out?" he asked softly.

Darren simply shrugged, his eyes sliding shut in exhaustion, his head still pressed against the bed railing and his body draped half on and half off the edge of the hospital bed.

Chris sighed and reached for a paper towel on the nightstand. He quickly wet it, running it across Darren's cheeks, forehead, and the back of Darren's neck, wincing at how warm Darren's skin still was against his hands. He dropped the paper towel into the trash below, looking back to Darren who had still not moved a muscle, his whole body looking tense, rigid, and pained.

"Dare?" Chris called, touching Darren's cheek softly. "You want to rinse your mouth out?"

Darren bit his lip as his eye flickered open, seeming surprised at how close Chris was to him. After a second's pause, he nodded minutely.

Chris grabbed a cup off the nightstand, pouring a few inches of water into a pink plastic cup. He quickly unwrapped a plastic straw, plunking it into the cup. Chris started to hand the cup to Darren, pausing as he realized Darren couldn't move, as one hand was clinging to his side while the other was wrapped tightly around the bed railing. Instead, Chris grasped the straw, extending it towards Darren's slightly parted lips, letting him sip water and swirl it around in his mouth before lifting the trashcan towards Darren so he could spit out the excess water. Darren nodded absently as his eyes slid close again, his head resting atop his hand on the edge of bed railing. "Thanks," he whispered.

Chris nodded, still watching Darren carefully. Darren remained impossibly still, his entire body tensed in the same awkward position half on and half off the bed.

"Darren, don't you wanna lay back down?" Chris finally asked.

Darren flinched, shaking his head quickly, avoiding eye contact with Chris.

"Why not? Are you going to throw up again?" Chris asked gently.

Again, Darren's only reply was the slightest shake of his head.

"Okay..." Chris muttered, confused. "You don't look comfortable though. Talk to me, Darren. Why don't we get you back in the bed?"

Darren finally opened his eyes, meeting Chris' gaze reluctantly. "Hurts too much to move," he managed tightly.

"Oh..." Chris hummed with realization. "Jesus Darren, why didn't you say something sooner?" Chris glanced down at Darren's white-knuckled hand still tightly gripping the bedrail, absently covering Darren's hand with his own as he tried to come up with a way to make Darren more comfortable.

"Uhh...Dare...do you think you could move if I help you? Or...I could call the nurse to get you some pain medicine and then we could try moving in a few minutes?" Chris asked gently, squeezing Darren's hand.

Darren forced his eyes open again, blinking heavily as he considered his options. "Okay," he finally whispered.

"Yeah? Medicine first?" Chris asked.

"Mhmm," Darren nodded, wincing.

"Okay, on it..." Chris replied, reaching for the call button, relieved when the nurse quickly replied, saying that she'd be in to check on Darren momentarily.

Chris turned his attention back to Darren, his heart aching a bit at just how utterly miserable and pathetic Darren still looked. Chris brought his hand to Darren's temple, smoothing back his hair as he spoke. "The nurse is on the way, okay? Not much longer..."

Darren shook his head, looking weary.

"Anything I can do?" Chris asked, tracing patterns across Darren's knuckles as he looked Darren searchingly, desperate to help in a tangible way.

Darren stayed silent, but slowly released his grip on the bed railing, turning his hand over and intertwining his fingers with Chris' own. Chris gave Darren's hand a quick squeeze in reply before placing an absent kiss to Darren's temple. Later it would occur to Chris just how casually intimate that small gesture had been, but in the moment, being there for Darren in that way felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As they waited, Chris continued to stroke Darren's hair, murmuring words of encouragement. Darren clung to Chris' hand as if it was a lifeline, eyes shut tightly in pain, his body remaining rigidly still.

Suddenly, Darren stiffened, letting out a muted groan as his hand crushed into Chris' own. "Fuck," Darren whispered as particularly strong wave of pain crested over him, causing hot tears to sting his eyes.

"Darren?" Chris replied worriedly, his hand smoothing across Darren's temple and cheek as he bent down to eye level, studying Darren's face.

Darren could feel Chris' gaze upon him, and with a low moan, he forced his eyes open, blinking up at Chris through watery eyes, trying not to wince visibly.

A single tear escaped from Darren's eye and slowly rolled down his cheek unbidden. Chris stroked across Darren's cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, wiping away the moisture. "Oh honey," he sighed, aching at how helpless he felt to ease Darren's pain.

"Hurts bad, huh?" Chris asked needlessly, given that the answer was written all over Darren's face.

All of Darren's energy was focused on swallowing down the sob that was threatening to escape from his throat, so he settled for a weak nod.

"Do you want me to go find the nurse? I could tell her to hurry," Chris asked, turning to look through the gap in the curtains into the narrow hallway.

"No," Darren answered immediately, tugging at Chris' hand to pull him closer. "Don't leave..."

Chris turned back towards Darren, looking shocked by the fear and desperation radiating from his every pore.

"Okay, I won't," he soothed, his stomach flipping at the fresh tears glittering on Darren's cheeks. He cupped Darren's face, wiping away his tears with feather-light strokes as he whispered reassurances to Darren. "I'm right here, Dare... I'm not going anywhere. You're okay. Everything's going to be okay. Just hang on, honey..."

* * *

Chris was absurdly grateful when Jenny appeared minutes later, bearing several syringes.

"Hi guys," she said softly. "Darren, Chris said you weren't feeling so hot. Can you rate your pain for me?"

"Uhh, 8? 8.5?" Darren managed, lying a little. Because honestly, this pain was off the charts. It deserved a triple digit number. Maybe hieroglyphics. But after his earlier pathetic display, it was time to be a little less wimpy.

"Okay, just give me one second and I'm going to get you feeling better. I just need to check your vital signs first." She picked up the thermometer. "Open up," Jenny directed, sliding the thermometer under Darren's tongue. While she waited for it to beep, she wrapped an automatic blood pressure cuff around Darren's upper arm. Next, she picked up Darren's free hand, clipping a small pulse oximeter to his index finger. A second later, the monitor began to beep, causing all three people to look at the screen expectantly. 102.9 degrees.

Chris frowned. "His fever sure hasn't come down much..."

"It sure hasn't," Jenny replied. "You said he threw up though, right?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded.

She nodded knowingly. "That means he probably threw up the Tylenol I gave him earlier. That would explain the fever. I'll give him some more in a minute."

The monitor beeped again and Jenny quickly jotted down the numbers, now frowning a little herself.

"Everything okay?" Chris asked, growing worried.

"Oh yeah, it's fine. His pulse rate is up a lot, but I'm thinking that's just from the pain," Jenny answered.

"Okay..." Chris answered, trying to ignore the twinge of panic in his stomach.

"Alright, all done," the nurse said after a minute, looking up at Darren and Chris. "So I've got good news and bad news...which do you want first?"

Chris' stomach did a backflip at that comment, immediately looking to Darren, unsure.

"Dare?" he asked.

"Don't...c-care," Darren mumbled miserably. "Good, I guess?"

"Okay," Jenny replied with a sympathetic smile. "The good news is that I've got your next dose of Morphine. Bad news is that it tends to make people nauseous, which is why you probably threw up a few minutes ago. So the doctor ordered a medicine called Phenergan for nausea to be taken with the Morphine. And that medicine can't be administered via IV, so you're going to need to get a shot."

Darren groaned, honestly questioning which was worse, the awful pain in his side or facing another needle.

"It'll be okay, Dare. A shot's nothing after getting an IV, trust me," Chris soothed, taking his hand again.

"Fiiine," Darren whined. "Let's just get it over with."

"Okay," the nurse replied. "So this one has to go in your hip..."

Chris looked at Darren. "Oh...umm, do you want me to...? Uh," he stammered awkwardly.

Darren just shook his head, looking unfazed. "It's fine. As we've already established, I have no dignity left. And I need you here..."

"Okay," Chris answered, looking relieved. "I promise I won't look."

"You totally should... I have a nice ass," Darren mumbled, reducing Chris to helpless snorts of laughter.

Darren's eyes grew wide as he watched Jenny draw up a clear liquid into a large syringe.

"Chris..." he whimpered.

"Hey, look at me, Dare. I'm right here, You're okay. It's going to be over really soon, I promise," Chris soothed, stroking his hair again.

Darren tightened his grip on Chris' hand, trying to block out everything that wasn't Chris, biting his lip in a vain attempt not to cry.

"Want me to sing again?" Chris asked.

Darren nodded.

"Any requests? More Mulan?"

Darren thought for a minute. "Baby It's Cold Outside?" he said at last.

"Really Darren? It's like 80 degrees outside and nowhere near Christmas," Chris scoffed.

Darren's only response was to give Chris the full on puppy eyes, and fuck if that wasn't his kryptonite.

"Okay, okay..." Chris caved. "Baby It's Cold Outside" it is... Can I ask why that song though?"

Darren managed a tiny shrug, wincing at the pain even that small movement caused. "I just like the way your voice sounds on it. Plus, good memories..."

Chris smiled at that, blushing a little at the compliment. "Fair enough, although you do realize you're asking me to sing a duet by myself, yes?"

"Please...you can hit what...a high C? I'm pretty sure you can manage a solo duet." Darren shivered as the nurse lifted the hem of his hospital gown, swiping a spot near his hip bone with an alcohol swab, making him nearly gag at the sterile scent.

" _Fuck_ , Chris..." he moaned. "Don't wanna..."

"I know, honey, I know... But it's going to help you feel better, okay?"

Darren nodded, eyes squeezing shut, a few hot tears leaking out.

Chris reached out, wiping away an errant tear with the pad of his thumb before drawing a deep breath and beginning to sing.

" _I really can't stay... I've got to go away..."_

Darren winced as the nurse smoothly injected the contents of the syringe, his hand crushing into Chris' with a quiet whimper. He was determined to be less of a baby this time, and was proud of himself for not crying out, even as the medicine burned like fire going in.

" _My mother will start to worry... My father will be pacing the floor..."_

"Okay, all done," the nurse chirped. "Now for the good stuff..." She reached for a port in Darren's tubing, quickly injecting his next dose of Morphine. "You should feel a whole lot better in a few minutes. You need anything else?"

Darren shook his head, relieved the ordeal was over.

"Thank you," Chris said gratefully.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "Let me know if he needs anything else."

"See, that wasn't so bad," Chris said once the nurse left.

"...says the person who didn't just get what felt like battery acid injected in his ass," groaned Darren.

"Aww, poor baby," Chris couldn't help but cooing. "But now you get to be with your lover Morphine. Surely that is worth a smile?"

"Eh..." Darren said tiredly.

"Eh? I thought you two were getting married. Planning a spring wedding and all that?" Chris teased gently.

"That was before it made me puke," Darren answered.

"Ahh, fair enough," Chris said with realization. "Although hopefully said battery acid means no puking this time?"

"Hope not...'cause that was...NOT fun." Darren let out a small yawn.

"Getting sleepy?" Chris asked, his voice low.

"Little bit," Darren said.

"Think you're ready to try moving?" Chris suggested. "Just looking at that position is making my neck hurt."

"Mhmm, gimme a minute," Darren answered. "Still hurts."

"Okay," Chris replied. "Let me know when you're ready," continuing to stroke Darren's hair as they sat in comfortable silence.

"Whoa," Darren said suddenly.

"Darren? Is everything okay? Do I need to get the nurse?" Chris asked, panicking.

"No no...I just...whoa," Darren slurred.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to be a little more specific," Chris commanded, still irrationally worried.

"I think..." Darren started, "that I am...really, really high. Like really high, Chris."

Chris started giggling hysterically because the face that Darren was making just too precious for words.

"Am I really high, Chris? Like really high?" Darren rambled. "I think I am."

Chris couldn't resist pressing a quick kiss to top of Darren's head before responding. "I think...that you may indeed be very high, hon. Enjoy it while it lasts, okay?"

"Whoa..." Darren said again, splaying his fingers in front of his face with a weird grin. "Are you seeing this, Chris? It's crazy, right?"

"I think  _you're_  a little crazy, Darren, but that's beside the point. C'mon, let's get you back in bed properly, stoner."

"M'kay... But 'm not a stoner...that was just tha' one time... You're...a stoner!" Darren exclaimed, trying to poke Chris in the chest, but missing him completely by a good six inches, poking the air instead.

"Whatever you say..." Chris said, standing so that he could help lower Darren back to the bed.

Darren suddenly tried to sit up, clutching his side dramatically as he sank back against the bed railing. "Oof," he groaned.

"Darren, stop. You're going to hurt yourself. Just let me help you okay?" Chris directed, placing a restraining arm across Darren's chest.

"Sooorry Chris...don' be mad, 'kay?" Darren sang giving Chris puppy dog eyes that could rival those on the Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty ad.

"I'm not mad, honey," Chris reassured, fluffing Darren's pillows and sliding an arm around his shoulders. "Okay, lay back...nice and slow. I've got you."

With Chris' help, Darren was quickly settled back on the bed.

"Mhmm," he sighed, snuggling into the pillows. He shivered slightly, causing Chris to frown and reach up to feel his forehead, noting with no small amount of relief that he felt marginally cooler.

Chris carefully tucked the blanket up to Darren's chin. "Comfy?" he asked with a smile.

"Very."

"Good...you should get some rest, Dare. Close your eyes, okay?"

"Don' wanna..." Darren whined. "Talk to me."

"About what?"

"I dunno...have I mentioned that I am really, really high? I'm currently seeing two of you. It's kinda awesome."

"Yes, you may have mentioned that once or twice," Chris answered wryly. "Two Chris Colfers, huh? Whatever would the world do?"

"Umm, be 100% more awesome?" Darren said as if the answer was obvious.

"Oh really now?"

Darren let out a big yawn, his eyelids starting to droop a little bit, even as he tried to fight it.

"See, Dare? You  _are_  tired," Chris crowed triumphantly.

"Ugh stupid body and it's stupid awful timing... I wanted a Colfer story," Darren groaned.

"Rain check," Chris whispered. "Close your eyes."

"Fii-iine," Darren huffed. Chris started carding his fingers through Darren's hair again, causing Darren to let out an appreciative moan.

"Mmhmm, that feels good," Darren mumbled.

"Shh, go to sleep," Chris directed, glad that Darren's eyes were closed so that he couldn't see him blushing.

"Now I see why people do drugs and then have sex..." Darren rambled.

"Darren, trust me whe I say that you really, really want to stop talking now. You'll thank me later."

"It's true though," Darren protested.

"Go to sleep."

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

Darren was quiet for a while and Chris assumed he'd finally fallen asleep. But then his voice pierced the silence of the hospital room, quieter and more tentative than before.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Dare?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how big of a baby was I today? Like just wimpy or unforgiveably unmanly?"

"How about none of the above... You were fine, Darren. Don't worry about it."

"You can tell me the truth. I'm high...probably won't remember it later."

"I am telling you the truth. You did great, Darren. Better than I could have imagined given the circumstances, okay?"

"Really?"

"Really."

Darren was quiet for another minute and then he started chuckling.

"That doesn't sound like sleeping, Darren. What's so funny?"

"You totally sang Mulan to me. In front of witnesses, no less."

"I did," Chris agreed, smiling at the memory. "Although it wasn't witnesses plural. Just one witness. That somehow makes it more acceptable in my mind."

"Hey Chris, I did good today? Really?" Darren asked again.

"Yes Darren, you did good," Chris repeated, shaking his head with bemusement.

"Was I as swift as a coursing river?"

"Darren..."

"With all the force of a great typhoon?"

"I swear to god..."

"Did I have all the strengh of a raging fire?"

"...if you don't stop, I'll sick Jenny on you again," Chris warned, even as he couldn't suppress a helpless giggle.

"Just one more..." Darren said, giddy.

"Oh my god, no Darren. For the record, you weren't as mysterious as the dark side of moon," Chris snarked back.

Darren laughed hysterically at that, literally clapping his hands with glee.

"You're ridiculous..."

"Jus' one of my many charms," Darren replied, yawning again.

"Now for the love of god, will you close your eyes and get some sleep?" Chris asked, feigning exasperation.

"I guess..." Darren sighed, letting his eyes slide shut.

"Night, Dare," Chris said softly.

"Night Chris...love you," Darren mumbled.

And before Chris could even process what Darren had said or try to respond, Darren was out, snoring slightly as the drugs pulled him under once again.


	3. Of Bonding and Brotherly Love

"Chris, it is telling me to initial next to something that says, 'You might die'? Are we sure this is a real hospital?" Darren whined, half-joking but secretly freaking out.

"Darren, there is no way it says that. And yes, this is a real hospital. I'm pretty sure you've heard of UCLA before. Now shut up and sign the legal crap so we can get this show on the road," Chris directed, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Maybe I should have my lawyer look over this? Or my agent? I'm pretty sure he'd want to know that I'm literally signing my death warrant," Darren continued nervously.

"I swear to god, if you don't sign the damn thing, I will forge your signature for you. Stop stalling," Chris commanded. "It shouldn't take 35 minutes to read and sign a two page consent form. Plus, your surgery is already scheduled for 11 AM, so there's no going back now."

Chris watched Darren for a moment, finally noticing how badly his hands were shaking as he scanned the document. Chris softened instantly, realizing that underneath Darren's bravado, he was still terrified.

"Darren," Chris tried again, his voice soft as he slid the paper out of Darren's hand, and threaded his fingers through Darren's. "Everything's going to be fine. You heard what the doctor said earlier. It's a very routine procedure. You'll be back on set in a week. Just ignore the stuff on the form. Most of it is legal bullshit anyways. It's worst case scenario stuff, and that's not gonna be you, okay?"

"You don't know that," Darren answered softly, worrying his lip between his teeth and staring at the clipboard in front of him, the words blurring together.

"I do..." Chris answered reflexively. "C'mon Darren, look at me," Chris commanded, sliding the pen out of Darren's hand before taking his hand in both of his. "You're going to be fine. I know you're scared, but there's no need to be. You're just going to take a little nap and when you wake up, I'll be right here and it'll be over and you'll feel so much better."

"Promise?" Darren finally asked, his voice so small and sad and desperate that it broke Chris' heart just a little.

"Of course. You're going to be just fine." Chris soothed.

Darren hesitated for a moment, seemingly mulling something over in his head. "No..." he said at last, shaking his head. "You promise you'll be here when I wake up?"

Chris stared back at Darren, his heart aching with a desire he couldn't explain. To be needed, to be wanted that desperately, it was like... Well, it was like nothing Chris had ever experienced before. All he knew was that he needed Darren to understand that he wanted to be there for Darren as much as, if not more than Darren wanted Chris at his side.

"Darren, listen to me," Chris began softly, almost reverently. But Darren was back to picking at imaginary lint on his hospital blanket, nervously avoiding Chris' gaze.

"Hey, Dare..." Chris tried again, sliding a gentle hand under Darren's chin, tilting it upwards until Darren was forced to look back at him. "I'm going to tell you this as many times as it takes for it to get through that thick skull of yours... I'm not going anywhere, okay? Not leaving. Not now...not later. I promised you that you wouldn't be alone and I intend to keep my promise, got it?" Chris' words were firm, but his tone and eyes were gentle, searching Darren's face desperately for any signs that what he was saying was sinking in.

After a moment's hesitation, Darren swallowed hard and nodded, blinking rapidly in a failed attempt to disguise unshed tears.

Chris reached for Darren's hand, looking away to give Darren a minute to collect himself.

Darren let out a shuddering sigh, squeezing Chris' hand gratefully.

"You okay?" Chris asked gently.

"Yeah, I am now. Thanks..." Darren replied with a weak smile.

"Anytime..." Chris assured, stroking his fingers through Darren's curls. "Now, let's get these papers signed, okay?"

* * *

An hour later, the consent forms had been signed but Darren's medications had started to wear off, leaving one very anxious and miserable person to contend with. Chris had spent the past thirty minutes flailing desperately in an attempt to drag a smile out of Darren, but it was no easy task.

"What if...I reenact the Single Ladies dance for you?" Chris tried. "Keep in mind that this is a one time offer that expires the second you leave the hospital. And one condition – you never speak of it again."

"Mhmm..." Darren murmured weakly, barely blinking at Chris' latest offer. "Maybe later?" He turned his head to look at Chris, wincing as the movement reignited the growing burn in his side. Chris clucked sympathetically and stroked Darren's bicep, steadying him through the worst of the pain.

When Darren opened his eyes again a minute later, Chris was staring down at him with a worried expression on his face. "Pain's getting worse again, huh?"

Darren nodded back tiredly. "How much longer?"

"Till the surgery or until the nurse can give you some more pain medicine?" Chris asked gently.

"Both."

"About thirty minutes until you can be back on the good drugs. And your surgery is scheduled to start in two hours, but they will probably come to prep you before then."

Darren stiffened slightly, his eyes widening as Chris mentioned the looming surgery.

"Honey, it's going to be fine. We've been over this. There's nothing to be scared about, okay?" Chris soothed.

"Except for being put under general anesthesia and being cut open and what if I don't wake up...or oh god, what if I do wake up during the surgery and I see them cutting me open," Darren let out in a rush, his anxiety palpable.

"None of those things is going to happen, Dare. I won't let them," Chris answered with certainty. "We just need to get your mind off things for a while, but clearly none of my lame distraction techniques are working. So tell me, what can I do? What will help? What will make you feel better?"

"Come here?" Darren asked, his voice small.

"I'm sitting right next to you, honey," Chris replied, confused.

"You're too far away," Darren mumbled.

"I guess I could move my chair a little closer?" Chris said, eyeing the measly six inches that separated them.

"No," Darren said, shaking his head. "Come  _here_ ," patting the bed next to him.

"Ohh," Chris spoke, blushing a little as the meaning of Darren's request finally hit him. "I – I don't know...I don't want to hurt you," he continued hesitantly.

"You won't...you would never," Darren answered, full of certainty. "Please Chris? I just – I know it's weird, but I just want... I need... _you_  right now."

Chris was nodding his assent before he could even get the words out. He stood, hovering at the edge of Darren's hospital bed as Darren slowly, painfully moved, making room for Chris. Chris carefully lowered himself next to Darren, trying to jar his body as little as possible. "Okay?" he asked softly as he settled in next to Darren.

Darren's only response was to curl up against Chris' side, laying his head against Chris' chest, wrapping an arm tightly around his waist as he seemingly held on for dear life.

Chris let out a sigh, placing a kiss to the crown of Darren's head which was now tucked beneath Chris' chin before bringing his fingers to rest at the nape of Darren's neck, twisting the curls around his fingers absently. Darren let out a hum of contentment and snuggled into Chris' chest a bit more.

"Better?" Chris finally asked.

"Much," Darren whispered, breaking into a yawn.

"Good, close your eyes now, okay Dare? I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

By the time the growing team of nurses and doctors reappeared forty minutes later, Darren was only half asleep and growing restless. Chris could tell Darren was in pain by the cold sweat that had broken out on his forehead, but he remained mostly silent, clinging to Chris desperately, his limbs wrapped possessively around Chris' body. Chris made a halfhearted attempt to disentangle himself from Darren's grasp when a nurse approached the bed to take Darren's vital signs, but quickly regretted it as Darren only dug in harder, his grip fierce. Before Chris had time to process what was happening, Darren's face was buried in his shirt while the surgeon poked and prodded at Darren's sore side. And really, what could Chris do, apart from hold Darren in his arms and hum Disney songs in his ear? It seemed to do the trick, keeping the worst of the crying and groaning at bay, although Chris could feel a few hot tears dampening his shirt as Darren tried to hold himself together one more time.

There was a part of Chris that was very, very aware of just how intimate things had grown between him and Darren since their arrival at the hospital, but an even bigger part of Chris that just didn't care as long as it made Darren feel even the tiniest bit better. He kept his feet on the ground by reminding himself of the fact that they were in a heightened situation and that Darren was honestly terrified and in a lot of pain. He couldn't and shouldn't assume anything on the basis of the last twelve hours. The rational part of Chris' brain was surprisingly good at bringing him back down to earth every time he reveled in how good it felt to hold Darren in his arms, to be needed and wanted by him in such an immediate way.

"Alright," the surgeon said abruptly, startling Chris, who'd honestly been too busy focusing on Darren to notice anything else. "All done with the exam."

Chris nodded gratefully, relieved that the torture session had come to an end for Darren. He looked down to where Darren's face was still buried in his shirt. "Did you survive?" he whispered in Darren's ear when Darren showed no signs of moving or responding.

"Barely..." Darren mumbled tiredly. "Never moving again, k?"

"Never ever, huh?" Chris asked, scratching his fingers along Darren's scalp. Chris looked up to see several pairs of eyes staring at him with a curious expressions, suddenly realizing that a bit more discretion might be a good idea.

Chris blushed, feeling exposed. "Uhh so, what's the plan from here?" he asked the surgeon at last, needing to fill the awkward silence.

"Well, as you know, the surgery is scheduled for 11 AM. This is Dr. Allen, the anesthesiologist, and she's going to ask you a few questions, Darren, and get some more information and then you'll be all set. The procedure should take about an hour and then you'll be in recovery for another hour or two. If all goes well, you'll go home tomorrow or Wednesday at the latest," the surgeon explained.

Chris listened as the very nice, vaguely maternal anesthesiologist explained everything to the still terrified Darren. Darren spoke as little as possible, giving information when necessary, but otherwise keeping his face protectively cocooned in Chris' embrace. Chris left himself drift, trying not to think about what was to come for both of them, focusing on how good it felt to be with Darren now. He came back around just in time to notice Dr. Allen looking at the two of them expectantly while Darren buried in Chris' shoulder, his fingers shaking a little as he fisted the cotton material of Chris' t-shirt in his hand.

"Sorry, he's really nervous about the surgery and in a lot of pain," Chris explained, rubbing Darren's back. "What were you asking?" he continued, looking back to Dr. Allen.

"That's okay... I totally understand. Just a few more questions before I can get him some more medicine. I was just asking Darren who he wanted us to notify after his surgery is over. He's allowed one family member in the recovery room and the rest of his visitors can see him once he's back in his room," the anesthesiologist explained patiently.

"Oh uh, that'd be me, right Darren? His family is out of town at the moment, so I'm filling in," Chris answered with a wan smile.

"Are you family?" the doctor asked with a frown.

"No, I'm not... I'm his...friend. We work together," Chris try to explain.

"Hmm, we'll have to see... Typically they'll only let immediate family in the recovery room..." the doctor replied. "Sorry guys, I don't make the rules..." she continued apologetically.

Chris felt Darren stiffen in his arms, obviously panicking at the thought of being alone after surgery. Darren finally lifted his head from where it'd been pillowed in Chris' chest, his face tired and pained. "He's my emergency contact. I don't have any family that's local. I'll sign whatever you want, but I want him with me."

"Okay okay, we'll make it work. If anyone asks, just say he's family, okay? I'll put you down as the primary contact, Chris, so you shouldn't have any trouble getting information while he's in surgery." Dr. Allen quickly jotted down something on her clipboard before nodding and reaching into the pocket of her white coat. "Whew, okay I think that's about all the questions for now. Time for your medicine... This medicine tends to make people really loopy, but it will definitely help relax you so you're not so nervous. They'll probably send someone to bring you up to the surgery floor in about 30 minutes. Any questions?"

Chris looked to Darren who merely shook his head, still looking overwhelmed. They sat in charged silence while the doctor injected the medications into Darren's IV port before finally, blessedly, leaving Chris and Darren alone together.

Chris was the first to speak, looking down at Darren. "Hey," he began simply, running his fingers through Darren's hair.

That was all it took for Darren to burst into tears, the last wall Darren had put up finally crumbling under the weight.

"Darren? Honey? Oh please, don't cry..." Chris begged. "What is it? Are you hurting? Scared?"

"All of the above," Darren muttered. "God, I'm sorry, Chris. I don't know why I'm being such a baby. I was fine until the doctor mentioned my family, but I just..."

"You want them here," Chris finished understandingly.

"Yeah...Is that stupid? I know I'm like 25 and supposedly an adult, but I don't feel like one at the moment," Darren replied.

"No, that's not stupid at all. I totally get it. Why don't you call them at least? They should probably know you're about to have surgery, don't you think?" Chris encouraged gently.

"Oh god, I don't know... My mom is going to freak," Darren started, unsure, his words starting to slur together a little. "What time is it now?"

Chris glanced at his iPhone. "10:08 am."

"Okay, so in the Philippines it would be...hmmm," Darren said, thinking hard. "'Kay, you're going to have to help me because math was never my strong suit and the medicine is starting to kick in and my brain feels like it is stuffed with cotton wool," Darren said with a yawn, his eyes glazing over more and more as he blinked heavily.

"What's the time difference there?"

"Uh...they are...they would be...it's...fifteen hours, I think."

"Ahead or behind?"

"Ahead."

Chris nodded. "Okay, so it would be...just after 1 AM there now. Yeah, probably not the most ideal time to call, huh?"

"Not really," Darren answered after a protracted pause. "God Chris, I feel weird right now. Really weird."

"Good weird or bad weird?" Chris asked.

"Just weird weird...this medicine is trippy. I think I should probably proactively disavow anything I say for the next few hours," Darren spoke, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration as he struggled to get out the words.

"Duly noted," Chris answered. "I'm just glad you are feeling a little better." He reached down to brush one forgotten tear from Darren's cheek, giving him a warm smile. The grin he received in return was enough to warm him to his very bones.

They sat that way in comfortable silence for a moment, both comforted by the warmth of bodies fiercely intertwined.

"Darren?" Chris called.

"Hmm?" Darren replied sleepily.

"Still with me?" Chris asked.

"Barely..." Darren replied. "I can't feel my lips and my body feels like it's floating. I almost forgot where I was for a minute..."

"Well, that's...interesting," Chris managed between giggles. "You can't feel your lips?"

"Nope...and my tongue feels all heavy. Am I talking funny?" Darren asked absently.

"Kinda...but it's cute," Chris reassured, tweaking Darren's nose with his finger. "You felt that, right?"

"Felt what?" Darren asked.

"Oh my god, what drugs are you on and where can I get some for myself?" Chris chuckled.

"I was just kidding," Darren said at last. "I felt you boop my nose. Not sure why you did it, but definitely felt it..." Darren slurred.

"Chriiiiiiiiis," Darren sing-songed suddenly.

"Yes?" Chris said expectantly.

"Nothing...just felt like saying your name. It's pretty. Chriiiiiiiiis. See what I mean?"

"Not even a little bit...but that's okay," Chris said, smiling. "So I was thinking..."

"Yeah?" Darren asked.

"Why don't we call your brother? That way he can call your parents at a slightly more appropriate hour and fill them in on what's going on, okay? I know I've only met your mom a few times, but I have a feeling she'd kick my ass if she finds out you're in the hospital from TMZ instead of one of us. And you know it's only a matter of time before the internet gets a hold of the story given the fact that you and I aren't on set today..."

"My mom could totally kick your ass. She's a freaking superhero..." Darren giggled. "But yeah, good point. We can call Chuck. Do you have my phone?"

Chris handed it over and Darren took it clumsily, taking several tries to unlock his iPhone. "Okay, you're going to have to dial for me," Darren said at last, handing the phone back to Chris. "...and maybe do most of the talking. I can barely even  _see_  straight."

Chris quickly scrolled through Darren's contacts, finding Chuck's number and placing the call before handing the phone back to Darren."Here, it's ringing," he informed him.

Darren took the phone, chewing his lip nervously as he listened to the phone ringing, his eyes already starting to sting a bit as he waited to hear his big brother's voice.

"Hey little brother," came Chuck's voice suddenly from the other end of the line, startling Darren.

"Chuck? Oh – hey..." Darren started awkwardly.

Darren and Chuck had always shared a close bond. Sure they fought like cats and dogs, competing for their parents' attention the way all siblings were likely to do from time to time. But they loved each other, and more importantly, they took care of each other. Chuck was the first person to help Darren through his needle and doctor phobia, bravely volunteering to go first when they both had to get shots at the pediatrician as children and assuring Darren it didn't hurt that much. So it didn't surprise Darren when Chuck immediately knew something was wrong.

"Darren? What's wrong?" Chuck said immediately, sounding worried.

"Gah, how do you do that? I swear you are psychic or something..." Darren trailed off.

"You sound weird... Are you drunk? Or  _high_?" Chuck asked, curious and very much confused.

"No, not drunk... And not high either. Well, I guess technically, I might be high, but not in the way you are thinking...it's complicated."

"Darren! Focus," Chuck commanded. "What's going on? What happened?"

"I'm in the hospital," Darren began, figuring it was best to just rip off the band aid, metaphorically speaking.

"Oh shit..." Chuck muttered. "What's wrong? Did you get in an accident? Are you okay?"

"No accident... I have appendicitis. I have to have surgery in like...less than an hour. Can you tell Mom and Dad? I don't wanna..." Darren slurred, yawning loudly.

"Wait, wha-? Okay Darren, you're going to have to back up for a minute. I feel like you are leaving out some crucial information. First, who's with you right now?"

"Chris...he brought me to the hospital. You wanna say hi? I'm kinda tired..."

"Uh yeah...why don't you let me talk to him for a minute. But then I want to talk to you some more, okay? So don't fall asleep on me just yet, deal?"

"No pr'mises...I'm like comically drugged...right...now," Darren reported slowly.

Chuck couldn't help but chuckle at his brother, even as he was panicking a bit. "I know, buddy. I can tell. Just rest for a few minutes while I talk to Chris, okay?"

""Kay," Darren answered sleepily, passing the phone to Chris. "He wants to talk to you."

Chris took the phone from Darren nervously. "Hello?"

"Hey...hey Chris," Chuck answered, sounding worried. "So Darren wasn't making a lot of sense, and I was hoping you could fill me in on what's happening."

"Yeah, of course. So Darren called me around 3 AM last night in a lot of pain and asked me to take him to the ER. We got here and they figured out that he had appendicitis pretty quickly. He's scheduled for surgery at 11 am. The surgeon said that we caught it pretty early and it should be a fairly routine procedure. Assuming that everything goes well, they said he can probably go home tomorrow," Chris explained patiently.

"Whoa, that soon? Okay, that's good, I guess. And how's Darren  _doing_? How's he handling everything?" Chuck asked, knowing how terrified his brother tended to be of anything even vaguely medical.

"Uhh, about how you'd expect, I think. He's terrified. Luckily they've got him on the good drugs..." Chris answered, chuckling a little at the blissed out expression on Darren's face as Chris ran his fingers through his curls.

"So you know..." Chuck started.

"...that he's scared of needles and the hospital and pretty much anything in a white coat? Yeah, that was abundantly clear the second they mentioned the word 'IV.'" Chris finished.

"Oh god, I can't even imagine..." Chuck breathed. "It used to take me, my mom, and two nurses just to hold him down for a shot. And that's when he was like ten."

Chris snorted at that, picturing the scene.

"Chriiiiiis," Darren whined. "Are you and Chuck laughing at me? No fair!"

"No honey, we're not laughing at you..." Chris soothed. "Well maybe, but only a little..."

"Oh god, I knew this was a terrible idea..." Darren groaned. "Tell Chuck I'm gonna kick his ass once I'm better if he tells you anymore embarrassing stories about me, 'kay?"

"Did you hear that?" Chris asked Chuck.

"I did... Tell him I said 'too late' okay?" Chuck answered

"Chuck says 'too late' Dare...I know all your secrets now. What are you going to do about it, hmm?" Chris teased.

Darren laughed hard at that, immediately regretting the action as his side was suddenly on fire once again.

"Ohhhh," Darren groaned in pain. "Fuck  _Chris_ , no laughing, remember?"

" _Shit_ ," Chris swore. "Chuck? Hang on a sec, okay?" Chuck listened, his stomach tightening with worry at the sound of Darren's muffled groan. There was a rustling, and then he could hear Chris' voice, soft and gentle as he comforted Darren.

"Shh Dare, it's okay. Just breathe...I know, I know. I'm sorry, honey."

And after a moment of silence, Chuck heard Chris speak again.

"You okay?"

Another pause, and then, "Good...just take it easy, okay?"

And then Chris was back on the line, apologetic.

"Hey, sorry about that Chuck. I'm back."

"Is he okay?" Chuck asked immediately, concerned.

"Yeah...totally my fault. I made him laugh. But he's alright now," Chris reported guiltily.

"Oh...good," Chuck replied. "So should I come there? I'm supposed to play a gig tonight but I'm sure the guys would understand if I had to bow out... I could try to get on the next flight?"

"Hmm, I don't know...I mean it's up to you, I guess. But I'm not going anywhere and I can keep you posted if you don't come. I mean, I think he's going to be fine..."

"So you're going to stay with him?" Chuck asked, feeling relieved.

"Yeah of course...he's got a surprisingly firm grip. I'm not sure I could leave even if I wanted to... But seriously, I promised him I'd stay, so I'm staying. I asked Ryan for the week off filming, so I'll probably take him back to my place for a few days once he gets out of the hospital. Assuming that's good with you, Darren?" Chris asked, pausing to look down at Darren.

"Hmm? Slumber party at your house? Works for me," Darren mumbled.

"That's really cool of you, Chris. Thanks for taking care of my little brother," Chuck spoke gratefully. "Mind if I talk to Darren again for a sec?"

"Oh yeah, sure..." Chris started... "Hey sleepy head," he called, nudging Darren slightly.

"Mhmm yeah?" Daren asked sleepily.

"Your brother wants to talk to you."

"Hey Chris?" Chuck called into the phone. "One more thing..."

"Yeah?"

"You'll keep me posted? Can you call me once he's out of surgery and all that?"

"Oh sure, definitely. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

"Great. Thanks, Chris. For everything... Keep him in line for me, okay?" Chuck asked

"Will do. Okay, here's Darren," Chris replied, passing off the phone.

"Well hello there..." Chuck spoke. "Still awake?"

"Mhmmff, barely," Darren grumbled.

"So Chris is taking pretty good care of you, huh?"

"The best. He's the best," Darren answered instantly.

"Do you want me to come? I can get a flight if you need me?" Chuck offered.

"Don't you have a show tonight?" Darren asked. "Where are you, even?"

"Boston, and yes...but I can skip it. They'll understand."

"Nooo no, don't do that. That's silly. By the time you'd get here, I'll probably be out of the hospital anyways... I've got Chris. I'm good," Darren reassured.

"You sure? I really don't mind..." Chuck asked, still hesitant.

"Yeah, positive. Plus, if you miss your show, people will tweet it and then I'm going to end up with TMZ staked out trying to get snaps of me in a hospital gown. And this hospital gown leaves a lot to be desired in the way of fashion... Mint green r _eally_  isn't my color," Darren rambled.

"Hmm, good point...didn't think of that. So second thing..."

"Yeah?"

"Mom and Dad," Chuck reminded Darren.

"Oh shit, Chuck. Mom's gonna freak," Darren moaned.

"Yeah, a bit. You would have to go and get sick when she's halfway around the world, huh?"

"I knooow, right? My body has terrible timing," Darren said, groaning.

"So you want me to break the news, huh?" Chuck asked, already dreading that conversation.

"Yes please... And convince them not to get on the next plane back to the States while you're at it," Darren begged.

"Uh, easier said than done, bro," Chuck replied.

"I know, I know..."

"Are you sure?" Chuck asked.

"Huh? Sure about...?" Darren questioned, confused.

"Sure you don't want us there, at least for a little bit? I'm used to you begging mom to come take care of you when you have a cold... And this is major surgery."

"Ugh Chuuuuuuuck, don't remind me," Darren whined, growing serious. "No honestly, I am terrified. But the worst of it will be over by the time they could get here anyways, or at least that's what Chris keeps telling me."

"So as long as Chris is there, you're okay, huh?" Chuck asked.

"Basically," Darren answered honestly, looking down at where his hand was intertwined with Chris' and feeling a jolt of something he couldn't quite place.

"Inteeeeeresting," Chuck intoned, his voice teasing.

"Don't," Darren begged.

"What? I didn't say anything?" Chuck exclaimed innocently.

"You were thinking it."

"And you would know that how...?" Chuck asked.

"You were thinking it very loudly," Darren admonished.

"Oh really now?"

"Yes."

Darren sighed, letting out a low moan as he tried to shift positions causing his side to twinge painfully. "Can we talk about it later? When I'm more coherent and less miserable preferably?"

"Of course we can... You okay, D?" Chuck asked, wincing sympathetically as he listened to Darren moan.

"Uggh yeah, just keep forgetting that I can't move. Like at all," Darren answered tiredly.

"Alright then...why don't I let you get some rest? Because it's almost time for your surgery, right? What time is it there?" Chuck asked.

"10:20 and don't remind me," Darren replied nervously. " _Fuck_...I just want this whole thing to be over with already."

Chris gave Darren a sympathetic glance, squeezing his hand tightly.

"I know, Darren," Chuck soothed. "And it will be soon, right?"

"I guess," Darren sighed, his eyes starting to sting out of nowhere at the thought of what was still to come.

"Okay buddy, well, you try to get some rest. Everything's going to go just fine, I know it. Chris is going to take good care of you, okay? And I'll talk to you again soon," Chuck encouraged Darren gently.

"Okay..." Darren replied, sniffling.

"I love you. Hang in there, Darren. It's gonna be okay," Chuck assured.

"Love you too," Darren choked out.

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?" Chuck promised.

"Yeah..bye Chuck," Darren said at last, handing the phone back to Chris and immediately burying his face in Chris' shoulder.

Chris clucked sympathetically as he hung up the phone, rubbing slow circles across Darren's back as he tried to coax Darren out of hiding.

"Darren? Are you okay?" Chris asked at last, when it was clear that Darren had no intention of moving.

With a sigh, Darren turned his head, looking up at Chris with reddened eyes. "Yeah, I'm just being stupid..."

"Nervous?" Chris asked.

"Yeah...I think telling my brother made it more real. I really don't wanna have surgery, Chris," Darren muttered.

"I know, honey. Try not to think about it. Just think about how much better you're going to feel afterwards when it's all over, okay?" Chris consoled.

"You're gonna be there, right?" Darren asked, turning his head to stare up at Chris.

"Of course...I'll be the first person you see when you wake up, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise," Chris swore.

Darren looked as if he wanted to say more, but they were interrupted by the nurse sliding open the curtain to the room with an apologetic smile.

"Hi guys... Darren, it's time for us to get you upstairs for your surgery. You ready?"

"Not even a little bit," Darren answered, his hand gripping Chris' fiercely.

"Still nervous?" she asked. "Well you're in luck, because I've got more drugs for you... You won't be nervous for much longer, trust me! They gave me this stuff once when I dislocated my shoulder and I was in la-la-la land in like two seconds flat." She gave Darren a grin as she emptied the contents of a syringe into his IV port. "There we go..."

Jenny eyed Chris, who was still perched on the edge of Darren's hospital bed with Darren wrapped around him, holding on for dear life. "Okay sweetie, if you can just hop off the bed, I need to put the rails back up and then we're going to take him for a little ride. You can walk upstairs with us and I'll show you to the surgical waiting room."

Darren let out a hum of protest as Chris tried to slide out of his grip.

"C'mon Darren, work with me..." Chris muttered under his breath., trying to scoot over as Darren stubbornly clung to him like an octopus.

Luckily, the medicine that Jenny had given Darren appeared to work very quickly and Darren relaxed his grip, sliding boneless against the mattress.

"Ohhh," Darren groaned appreciatively. "Ohh, that's...ummm...whoa."

"Feeling better, hon?" Chris asked as he stood, stepping back out of the way and allowing Jenny to lock the bedrails into position.

"God  _Chris_..." Darren mumbled. "I feel...soooo..."

"So...what?" Chris asked after a protracted pause.

"So hiiiigh. I'm so fucking high, Chris," Darren sang oddly, causing both Jenny and Chris to break into fits of helpless giggles.

"God Darren, your face..." Chris snorted.

"Chriiiiiiiiiisss," Darren whined. "C'mere, you're too far away."

Chris rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing hold of the bedrail as he stepped to Darren's side. Jenny detached a few monitors and quickly transferred Darren's bag of IV fluids to a stand attached to the bed, before quickly stepping around the bed and swiftly maneuvering the bed out into the hall.

Darren reached up, completely lacking in all coordination, but still managing to grip Chris' hand in his once again.

"Whoa...we're moving," Darren spoke slowly, his eyes wide.

"Sure are, Captain Obvious," Chris laughed.

"Uh oh, Chriiiiiiiiiisss. Better tell...tha' Cp'tain to slooooooow down or I'm gonnna get seasick, mm'kay?" Darren warned.

"Will do, Dare," Chris replied, gamely playing along.

"Cooool thanks Chris! You're the best, ya know that, right? I love you...sooooo much." Darren exclaimed.

"I – Uh – thanks?" Chris replied at last, blushing.

"Chriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis," Darren whined, pouting comically.

"Yeah?" Chris asked.

"Ruuuuuuuuude. You don' say 'thank you' when someone says 'love you' unless...you secretly haaaaaate them. Do you hate me?" Darren asked, all puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Chris sighed, something stirring in his stomach as he gazed back at Darren. "Of course not."

"You love me?" Darren asked, his expression so hopeful that it made Chris ache.

 _It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything. He's just doped up. Don't read anything into it, Chris. Don't get attached._ The same admonishments were playing over and over in Chris' mind, but it wasn't enough.

"Well?" Darren asked, his eyes wide and as guileless as a child's.

Not trusting his voice, Chris settled for nodding, his eyes locked on Darren.

"Good," Darren sighed, smiling. "Love you too." And with that, Darren's eyes slid closed as he promptly fell asleep.

_I am so screwed._


	4. Of Worrying and Wondering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: A little bit more medical talk, but again, nothing too squicky. References to surgery/recovery.

Chris sank into a deeply uncomfortable vinyl chair, settling in for the long wait ahead. He alternated between flipping magazine pages idly and flicking through the rapidly growing to do list on his phone, his mind buzzing all the while. Finally, he gave up hope of getting anything done, and reached for his phone, calling the one person he knew would help reassure him.

Chris drummed his fingers nervously as he listened to phone ring, desperately needing an outlet for all the emotions he'd been repressing for the past few hours.

"Ash?" Chris called as soon as the phone connected, desperate to hear his best friend's voice.

"Hey boo," she replied. "You sound stressed. What's wrong?"

"Oh god, where do I start?" Chris asked wryly, sinking down into the vinyl chair with a sigh.

"Uh, the beginning?" Ashley replied. "That's usually a good place to start. What's wrong, honey?"

"Well, for starters, I'm at the hospital," Chris began.

"What?" Ashley asked, sounding worried. "Did you injure yourself on set  _again_?"

"Nope, not for me for once. It's Darren..."

"Oh no, he's hurt?" Ashley asked.

"Sick, not hurt. He has appendicitis. He's having surgery as we speak," Chris spoke flatly, trying hard to keep from panicking in earnest.

"Jesus...is he going to be okay?" Ashley gasped, horrified.

"I – I think so...the doctors keep saying so, anyway, but it's been a rough few hours," Chris reported grimly.

"How did you end up on hospital duty?" Ashley probed, sensing there was still something Chris wasn't telling her.

"He called me...at like 3 am last night. He was in a lot of pain and needed a ride to the ER. And I've been here ever since."

"Whoa...where's his roommate? Is his family there?"

"Joey? He's on tour. And his parents are out of the country at the moment, so it's just me."

"So you're there all by yourself? Oh honey... do you want me to come sit with you?" Ashley offered.

"Kinda, but it doesn't make much sense for you to. They said the surgery should only take about an hour, so by the time you got here, it would be over. And they'll only let one person back to see him. They'll barely let me back there. Just talk to me for a while?" Chris asked.

"Of course... You're sure you don't want me to come? I don't mind just hanging out and waiting,"

"You're sweet...but no, I'll be okay...just keep me distracted 'till it's over."

"I can do that," Ashley replied. "You're worried?"

"Yeah, it's stupid...I know I shouldn't be, but he was so scared... He'll kill me for telling you this, so keep it on the down low, but he's terrified of needles and doctors and anything medical, really, so the last few hours have been...interesting to say the least."

"Aww poor baby...he needed his Chris, huh?" Ashley practically cooed.

"Ash, you have no idea..." Chris sighed.

"Tell me?"

"Oh god, where to begin? Maybe with the me having to hold his hand and sing him Disney songs while they put in the IV part? Disney songs, Ash. Literally."

"You didn't!" Ashley squealed. "Oh. My. God. What is it with that guy and Disney songs?"

"I know, right? It was beyond humiliating, but also kinda sweet, I guess. He was honestly terrified, so I couldn't exactly tell him no. He's been so damn pathetic that he could probably ask me to stand on my head at this point and I'd do it..." Chris spoke with a fond smile.

"Aww, there are no words for what I'm feeling right now, Christopher. Tell me more...please?" Ashley squeaked.

"Well, let's see...he said some pretty hilarious things while drugged up. I'm trying to remember some of them..." Chris trailed off, thinking.

"Ooh, I love it, I love it... Did he say something we can use as a bribe later? Did he bare his soul to you?" Ashley asked gleefully.

Chris choked on the Diet Coke he'd been sipping as he heard Ashley's question, remembering.

"Chris? You okay?" Ashley called.

"Yeah sorry," he said hoarsely after a pause. "Diet Coke just went down the wrong pipe..."

"Liar..." Ashley said, unconvinced. "You choked for a reason. What did he say?"

"Ashley, as you've witnessed many times before, when you drink as much Diet Coke as I do, choking is just an occupational hazard," Chris covered, lamely.

"Christopher. Colfer. What. Did. He. Say? Tell me now!" Ashley demanded.

"Okay, FINE. He may have told me he loved me once or twice... But he was drugged. Both times!" Chris finally admitted.

"What?! Oh my god, please tell me EXACTLY what he said. Now!" Ashley screamed into the phone.

"Ash, geez, not so loud...This is a hospital," Chris answered irritably.

"I'm not even there. I doubt that the patients can hear me all the way through the phone," Ashley retorted.

"Oh, I'm sure they can. I wouldn't know, since you've permanently damaged my eardrums, but I have a feeling that dogs two counties over are still howling at how loud that scream of yours just was."

"You're stalling, Colfer. Out with it," Ashley commanded.

"Ugh fine...no big revelation. He just said 'I love you' and then promptly passed out. There? Satisfied?"

"Not even a little bit. You said it happened twice. What'd he say the second time?"

"Same thing...basically."

"Nope, nice try. Exact words, Chris. I need all the details. Or would you rather I ask Darren instead?"

"You wouldn't..." Chris breathed, horrified.

"I would. I have a feeling he'd be a lot more forthcoming than you too, especially if we chat while he's still on the good drugs."

"I hate you."

"You don't...not even a little. Now tell me EXACTLY what he said. And how you responded. Leave nothing out," Ashley directed.

"Fiiiine," Chris whined, sinking back into the chair, his hands over his face, somehow still embarrassed even though he knew no one could see him. "He said 'I love you' just before they were bringing him back for surgery...when he was heavily drugged, might I add. And I said 'thank you.' And that was it, basically."

"Ouch...you said thank you? Really, Chris? That's harsh," Ashley scolded.

Chris started laughing in spite of himself. "You know, it's funny, but that's exactly what Darren said too..."

"He said 'thank you' was harsh?"

"Rude actually, he said it was rude. He said that's what you told people who you secretly hated," Chris recalled.

"He's so right. I've used it myself a time or two. But we all know you don't hate him, so what'd you say then?"

"I may have  _implied_ that I loved him as well?" Chris muttered.

"Wait, what? You implied it? What does that even mean?" Ashley pressed.

"He asked me if I hated him, and I said no. Then he said, 'you love me?' and looked at me with those damn puppy eyes and he was all pathetic and hospital gowned up and about to go in for surgery and what else could I say, Ash?"

"So you said yes?"

"I nodded."

"Ahh, I see. Hence the implied part."

"Yes, hence the implied part."

"So you told him you loved him. Wow..." Ashley repeated, a bit stunned.

"I didn't  _tell_ him I loved him, Ash. I implied it. I nodded. Big difference."

"Semantics, Chris. There's no difference.  _Do_  you love him?"

"He's my friend. I care about him a lot. I love all you guys, you know that."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Do you  _love_  love him?" Ashley probed.

"He's straight, Ash."

"That may be, but if so, he's the gayest straight man I've ever met. And he's never been one for labels anyway. He's made that clear on numerous occasions. And that doesn't even matter right now. I asked you if you love him."

"I don't know, Ash," Chris started, trying to fathom his thoughts into words. "I like him an awful lot. But love? I mean...he's  _Darren_. Whatever it is that he and I have, it's complicated. I care about him. He cares about me. That's about all I've got at the moment, you know?"

"Fair enough...just know that you're going to have to deal with it at some point. Maybe sooner than you are ready for, okay?" Ashley warned. "I'm just looking out for you, Chris. You know that right?"

"I know, I know..." Chris replied. "But can we talk about something else now?"

"Of course, honey. What do you wanna talk about?" Ashley prompted.

"I seem to remember someone having a hot date last night. How'd it go? It's my turn to demand details," Chris asked, feeling relieved at the change in subject.

"Oh god, Chris. It was a hot mess – top to bottom. Hot fucking mess."

"Noooo...really? Was it a funny hot mess at least?" Chris pressed.

"Oh, it was hilarious. Still is in fact. I kept thinking I was getting punked. It was that bad, Chris. I was expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out and save me from Boring McDull-Pants the whole night. But sadly, no Ashton to the rescue."

"Oh Ash, stop...you are killing me. Boring McDull-Pants? Really?" Chris spoke between helpless giggles. "Tell me everything."

"Okay, let's see...where to begin?"

* * *

Chris passed the remainder of the hour and the first half of the next with Ashley regaling him with stories of her beyond awful blind date, all the while growing more and more nervous with each passing minute with no word from Darren's doctor. He knew it was irrational to worry at the sixty minute mark when the surgeon had said it would take "about an hour" but that didn't stop him from imagining an endless series of awful complications. His worry was only amplified by a series of texts from Chuck, also anxious to know more about his brother's condition so he could update Darren's even more worried parents.

But Chris needn't have worried, as he was quickly reassured by the surgeon and the nurse who immediately offered to take him back to see Darren. Before long, Chris was hurrying alongside the nurse's efficient stride, stomach churning with a combination of nerves, relief, and longing. Chris hadn't realized that he'd been barely breathing until he heard the surgeon utter the words "textbook operation" "no complications" and "a relatively quick recovery time." He'd let out a shaky breath, his shoulders literally sagging under the weight of all the fears and what-ifs he'd spent the last hour plus trying to keep at bay. Darren was going to be just fine. Chris trusted the surgeon and knew Darren was fine intellectually, but it was becoming abundantly clear that Chris wouldn't be truly "okay" until he could see Darren with his own eyes.

"Here we are, sweetie," the nurse said with a kindly smile, pulling back the curtain of Darren's cubicle in the recovery room. "I'm going to pop out to check on another patient, so I'll give you two a few minutes of privacy. He's pretty out of it, but he's starting to come around. Let me know if he needs anything, okay?"

Chris barely heard the nurse as his eyes were glued to the figure laid out before him. If Chris hadn't just been reassured by the surgeon that Darren's surgery had been "textbook" and without complications, Chris would have been panicking in earnest by now. Darren lay prone on the gurney, looking impossibly pale against the white pillows. His eyes were closed, but Chris could still see the dark, bruise-like shadows encircling Darren's slightly puffy eyes. An oxygen mask covered Darren's nose and mouth and various tubes and devices were connected to his body, measuring his blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen saturation. The reassuring beep of the heart monitor cut through the silence of the room, reminding Chris that despite appearances, Darren was very much alive and on his way to recovery.

Chris reminded his legs how to move forward and slowly made his way to Darren's bedside. As he got closer, he was struck by just how  _small_  Darren looked, curled up in the hospital bed and surrounded by tubes and wires. He looked utterly unguarded and more vulnerable than Chris had ever seen before, awakening the same strong protective instinct and longing Chris had been fighting ever since he'd arrived at Darren's house many hours ago.

Chris bent down, planting a gentle kiss on Darren's forehead before sinking into a chair at Darren's bedside, content to watch the slow rise and fall of his chest with each breath and hear the steady beep from the monitor with each heartbeat. But Darren clearly had other ideas, shifting restlessly and letting a low moan, his eyes still tightly closed as his eyebrows drew down slightly in pain.

Chris reached for Darren automatically, instinctively, sliding his hand into Darren's hair, stroking at the curls along his temple. This action was rewarded with a twitch and slightly louder moan, Darren's eyes still tightly closed. Chris could see that Darren's eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, seemingly searching for someone, trapped somewhere between asleep and awake.

"Darren? Honey, can you hear me?" Chris called softly, stroking his free hand up and down Darren's upper arm.

Darren responded almost immediately with a whimper, this one louder than the others that came before it. His head turned slightly towards Chris, his eyes still closed, but his eyelids fluttering as if he was struggling to open his eyes. Darren's limbs flailed, completely lacking in all coordination, and he groaned, clutching his side as the movement caused him pain.

Chris' hand shifted from stroking along Darren's bicep to press firmly against his shoulder, holding him pinned against the mattress. His other hand slid from Darren's hair to his cheek, cupping Darren's face as his thumb began caressing Darren's cheekbone with whisper light touches.

"Darren? It's Chris. I'm here, honey. You need to lay still, okay? You just got out surgery, remember? The doctor said everything went really well. Just take it easy. Everything's going to be fine."

Darren stilled momentarily at Chris' words, his fist opening and closing rhythmically as he searched for something to ground him. Without hesitation, Chris removed his hand from Darren's shoulder, lacing his fingers through Darren's and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Darren was quiet for a minute or two before he winced suddenly, letting out a series of whimpers that showed no sign of stopping, only growing in frequency and volume as time elapsed.

"Darren, can you open your eyes for me?" Chris called to no avail. "C'mon Darren, look at me," Chris commanded, a bit desperately. "Are you hurting, honey? Are you in pain? I need you to tell me what's wrong so I can help."

But Darren didn't respond, still locked in a world halfway between asleep and awake. Chris was trying not to panic, but it was damn near torture to see Darren seemingly hurting or scared and more importantly, right in front of him, and still be unable to help.

Chris gazed back down at Darren, his stomach tightening as he took in the tears gathering at the corners of his still tightly closed eyes.

"Darren...baby, please don't cry," Chris begged, wiping away the tears with gentle strokes. "It's okay, honey. Everything's going to be okay. The bad part is over," Chris repeated, unsure if he was trying to reassure himself or Darren. Darren continued to whimper while Chris sat helpless, frustrated beyond belief at this inability to communicate with Darren in his semi-conscious state.

Finally, an idea occurred to him. Darren seemed unable to open his eyes or speak, but it was obvious that he could hear Chris, that he could feel his touch. Something was wrong with Darren, and Chris was determined to discover the cause of Darren's escalating cries. He knew that Darren had to be hurt or scared, possibly both. Now it was time to discover which so he could finally do something to help.

"Darren, I want you to listen to me for a second, okay?" Chris started. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise. I just want to help you feel better. So sweetheart, are you hurting? Just squeeze my hand if you are, okay?" Chris directed, waiting. After a few second's hesitation, Darren's hand crushed into his, leaving little question about his intention.

"Okay Dare, I'm calling the nurse right now, okay? She can get you some medicine for the pain. Just hang on, honey." Chris soothed, squeezing Darren's hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

Chris leaned his head out of the cubicle, quickly flagging down a nurse and explaining what was needed. He continued stroking Darren's hand as he waited, hoping whatever part of Darren was conscious knew help was on the way.

Once Chris was sure that the nurse was getting Darren his meds, he turned back to look at Darren and was surprised to see his eyes struggling open.

"Chris?" Darren called hoarsely, his eyes finally focusing on the figure in front of him.

"Hey," Chris breathed. "I'm here, Darren."

"Hurts..." Darren whispered, licking his dry lips.

"I know, honey... The nurse just went to get you some pain medicine. Just gotta hang on for one more minute, okay?" Chris encouraged sympathetically.

Darren nodded, his eyes sliding shut.

"Surgery's over?" he asked after a moment, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah, it's over. Everything went fine. No complications," Chris reported.

"I can go home?" Darren asked drowsily.

"Not just yet, Dare, but soon. Tomorrow probably."

"I wanna go home, Chris," Darren whimpered. "Where's my mom?"

"Oh honey, she's not here, remember? She's in the Philippines. But she's been asking about you. Your dad, too. And Chuck's texted me about a hundred times. He's keeping them posted about you, okay?"

"I want my mom... Can you tell her to come now?" Darren asked, his eyes still closed.

"Darren..." Chris whispered. He had no idea how to answer Darren's request, but he knew his heart ached for his friend, seeing him looking so small and desperate. So vulnerable.

Before Chris could be pressed to answer Darren, the nurse appeared with the pain medicine, administering it quickly before addressing them both. "He should feel a lot better in a minute or two. Let me know if he gets nauseous. I'll be back in a few minutes to check on him."

Chris nodded, relieved to have the temporary distraction. He turned back to the bed, wincing at the tears slowly sliding down Darren's cheeks.

"Darren?" Chris called as he wiped away the tears. "You okay?"

"It hurts," Darren moaned quietly.

"I know it does...but it's going to get better in just a minute, okay?" Chris soothed immediately. "We just have to give the medicine time to kick in."

Darren opened his watery hazel eyes, giving Chris a pleading look.

"Chris," he whimpered, crying a little. "S'tired...I jus- wanna sleep but it...it hurts too m-much."

"Oh sweetheart, you should start feeling better any minute now. Then you can sleep. Just hang on for a few seconds more," Chris urged.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Dare."

"Chris?" Darren called, his voice scratchy and soft.

"Yeah?" Chris replied.

"Can you hold my hand again? It...it helps...a little."

"Of course I can," Chris answered instantly, finding Darren's hand in the dim light and immediately lacing his fingers through Darren's.

"Better?" Chris murmured.

Darren simply nodded, his eyes sliding shut due to a combination of pain and exhaustion.

"Try to sleep, Dare. It'll be better when you wake up," Chris soothed, sliding his hand through Darren's mussed curls.

* * *

The next few hours were an experience that Chris would be happy to put behind him permanently. Darren had been miserable beyond belief, in pain, shaking due to the lovely effects of anesthesia, and incredibly confused. He'd asked for his mom at least four more times, breaking Chris' heart each time he had to remind Darren that his mom was out of the country. Throughout it all, Darren clung to Chris, unable to sleep or relax unless Chris' hand was in his or Chris was stroking his hair. Preferably both.

The whole recovery room debacle had climaxed with Darren throwing up all over Chris after the nurse had coaxed him into drinking some ginger ale. After the millionth apology from a very embarrassed Darren, Chris had to shut him up by saying that he was "honored" to be thrown up by Darren, explaining that he could probably sell his soiled shirt on EBay for quite a lot of money, something the recently drugged Darren found hilarious.

Chris had been beyond relieved when Darren finally kept some water down and was rewarded by finally being allowed to leave the recovery room and transported upstairs to his private room. Once he was disconnected from several monitors and finally allowed to rest in a quiet, dark room, Darren fell into a deep, seemingly much more restful sleep. Chris was glad to see Darren comfortable for once and curled up in the recliner at Darren's bedside, allowing his own exhaustion to catch up with him and nodding off, Darren's hand still in his.

When he woke up, it was dark outside and Darren was moaning a bit, moving restlessly in his sleep. Chris reached out, brushing his hand across Darren's forehead, frowning a bit as he noticed Darren seemed too warm for the room.

"Dare? You okay?" he called quietly.

"Chris?" Darren asked sleepily, his eyes blinking open.

"Yeah...you feeling okay?"

"I've been better," Darren groaned, sounding much more coherent than he had the last time he'd been awake.

"Hurting?" Chris asked sympathetically.

"Ughh yes, always it would seem," Darren muttered, looking frustrated.

"Not always, hon. By this time next week, you'll be bouncing around set like always, promise."

"God, I hope so...this is  _not_  fun," Darren complained.

"Well got some good news..." Chris started, grabbing a small white pump at Darren's bedside.

"What's that?" Darren asked, curious.

"That would be your pain pump. The nurse explained it to you earlier, but I think you were still too out of it to know what was going on. You just push the button and voila, you feel better," Chris explained patiently.

"Sounds wonderful. Hand it here," Darren requested. He took the small handset from Chris, immediately pressing the button.

"Still hurts," he whined.

"Well, you have to give it a  _second_ ," Chris scolded, rolling his eyes. "It's not magic. It's just giving you some pain medicine in your IV. It'll kick in soon."

"So now we wait?" Darren asked tiredly.

"Now we wait..." Chris echoed, sliding his hand through Darren's hair again, receiving a hum of contentment from Darren.

* * *

30 minutes later, the pain pump was Darren's new best friend, and Darren was, as he told Chris every five minutes, "very high." Chris smiled as he watched Darren splay his fingers in front of his face, an expression of blissed out relaxation on his face.

"Okay Chris, can I just say this? I'm jus' gonna say it! I love you," Darren slurred.

"Oh-kay," Chris trilled, blushing slightly. "Someone's had a little too much morphine, I think!"

"No, Chris, I mean it. I love you. You are my best friend. When I...when I figured out what was going on last night with me health-wise and that I needed to go to the hospital, there was only one person that I wanted to call: you. And you've been amazing."

Chris froze. All the declarations of love were making his head spin. On the one hand, this would mark the third time that Darren had told him he loved him in less than 24 hours. But on the other hand, these declarations seemed to only come when Darren was drugged to the gills, making it hard for Chris to know what to believe. Darren seemed coherent and still... _Darren_  despite the obvious slurred speech from all the medications he'd just been given. But Chris didn't know what to believe at this point, his head spinning with Ashley's words of guidance, but also his own doubts.

Darren took a deep breath and looked Chris in the eyes, wanting Chris to see the sincerity behind what he was saying. "Listen, Joey and I don't believe in the whole guy friends can't love each other thing. I think if you love someone, you should tell him. I'm not embarrassed to say that Joey's my heterosexual life partner. And I'm not embarrassed to say that I love you. Because you are my homosexual life partner," Darren finished in a rush, starting to lose steam a bit at the end there due to the lack of sleep and morphine and general delirium.

As Darren drew a breath, he replayed back what he'd just said to Chris before blushing deeply, jumping to clarify his words. "Wait...wait, I take it back! That came out wrong. But you know what I mean."

Chris focused hard on swallowing the mouthful of Diet Coke he was currently imbibing rather than spitting it forcefully onto Darren's face as he listened to a very sleepy and morphined out Darren profess his bro love. He swallowed hard. "Oh my god...Darren...you...called me...your...homosexual... life...partner. What...is wrong...with you?" Chris gasped between hysterical giggles.

Darren gave Chris a slightly dopey grin in return. "You know what I mean, though! It's not my fault. I've been drugged. I'm not responsible for my words."

"But Darren...really? Homosexual life partner? I'm pretty sure that would just mean we are dating and/or about to get married. And unless there's something you aren't telling me about your sexual orientation, I'm pretty sure you are confused," Chris continued, his face flushing slightly at the thought of what he'd just implied. He looked away, embarrassed, staring quite intently at the pattern on the tile floor.

Darren was still gazing at Chris with an intense but slightly dopey grin when Chris' eyes found his again. Chris shook his head in mock exasperation, his incredible fondness for Darren still coming through as he smiled back at him.

"I would try...and argue my point...one more time," Darren started, his words slurring together more and more as the fatigue and medication swept over him. "But...I have a feeling," he continued, his sentence interrupted by a comically loud yawn. "I know...that I'd...jus'...dig my hole...deeper. 'Ya know what...I mean...though...right?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Chris responded warmly. "But that's okay. It's probably for the best. After all, friends don't let friends make confessions while high on painkillers. That's like the second rule in the friendship manual."

"Oh really?" Darren asked, his voice amused. "What's the other rule...the first one...then?"

"Hmm..." Chris started, pretending to mull the question over carefully. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Or would it be bros before hoes? I'll have to consult my BFF manual later."

Darren's eyes widened with surprise at Chris' response. He let out a slightly hysterical chuckle, regretting the expression almost immediately as his laughing jostled his still tender right side. Darren stilled in an instant, his hand automatically clutching at the bedrail as he winced visibly. "You're not... supposed to make...me laugh, Chris," he whined.

"Easy Darren," Chris soothed, laying his hand over Darren's momentarily. "Sorry, that was my fault. No more jokes, I promise. Or at least not until you are feeling better. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm...good," Darren said, his hand relaxing it's death grip on the bedrail as he blinked slowly, his eyelids starting to droop from exhaustion.

"Good deal. How about you get some sleep now, okay? I can tell you can barely keep your eyes open," Chris directed as he pressed a button to lower the head of Darren's hospital bed.

"Mmhm 'kay," Darren slurred, allowing the medication and fatigue pull him under as his eyes slid shut.

Chris watched Darren for a minute or two, smiling at how relaxed Darren's face looked in sleep, providing sharp contrast to the tension and pain written all over his face only a day earlier. After a moment, Chris sat forward in his chair, leaning down to grab his laptop bag, intending to hopefully get a little work done on his book while Darren slept. He slid the laptop from its bag and was just opening it up when he felt eyes upon him.

Chris glanced up to see Darren watching him carefully, blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep his eyes open. "That doesn't look like sleeping to me, Darren," he chided. "Go to bed."

"I will but...I was jus' thinking...that you could...probably use...s'm sleep...too," Darren mumbled, his face looking lost and slightly anxious.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Hey now, who's the patient here?"

"Me," Darren replied. "But you've gotten...even less...sleep than me, ya know?"

"Oh really? And how did you come to that conclusion?" Chris asked. Before Darren could respond, Chris let out an exaggerated sigh and closed his computer, sliding it back into his laptop bag. Darren continued to frown, looking at Chris worriedly.

Finally, Chris slid his hand downwards to activate the lever on the side of recliner chair in which he was seated. "Yes, I am staying the night," Chris started, anticipating the source of Darren's current distress. "End of discussion."

When Chris looked back to Darren, his face was relaxed once more, his eyes drooping shut as if on cue now that he'd gotten reassurance that Chris wasn't planning to elope in the night.

Chris smiled, his whole body warm and tingling slightly as he watched Darren sleep, his breathing deep and even. He still had no idea what Darren's repeated confessions of love meant, but for now Chris was content to know that he was where he needed to be and that Darren was on his way to recovery.

Chris slid back into the recliner a bit more, covering himself with an extra blanket that one of the nurses had helpfully provided. He turned on the TV, flipping channels until he found CNN, watching the news scroll by as he watched with the TV on mute. He was startled a few minutes later when he felt a warm hand slip into his. He looked over to Darren and was surprised to see his eyes still closed, his face showing no signs of consciousness aside from the slight smile on lips. Chris just smiled, squeezing Darren's hand slightly in response. Holding Darren's hand had always felt right, ever since that first day on set when Darren had taken Chris' hand in his, explaining that "he knew a shortcut." Chris turned back to the TV, humming "Teenage Dream" under his breath unconsciously. A few minutes later, it finally occurred to Chris why he'd started humming that particular song. My missing puzzle piece. Because that's what it felt like when he was holding Darren's hand. It felt like the last puzzle piece had been slotted into place, and suddenly, Chris was complete. Whole. Home.


	5. Of Cuddling and Confessions

Chris awoke the next morning with a searing pain in his neck from falling asleep at such an awkward angle in the hospital recliner. He groaned as he opened his eyes, uncurling his body as he tried to stretch his aching limbs, frowning when he met resistance. He turned to see his left hand still clasped tightly in Darren's, Darren sleeping soundly.

"Oh sorry, hon," the nurse apologized, seeing Chris was no longer asleep. "I was trying to keep from waking you. You boys both looked like you could use your rest. I'm just checking his vitals real quick."

"Oh no, you're fine," Chris spoke, waving off her concern. "I needed to get up anyways. If I'd slept another hour in the chair, I don't even want to imagine how bad the crick in my neck would've been."

"I hear that," she replied amiably, a slight southern drawl tinging her words. "Those things are impossible to get any decent rest in."

"Yeah, they really are," Chris mumbled, still trying to get his neck to relax enough to turn even slightly to the right.

"Well good news, because both of you will get to sleep in your own beds tonight. The doctor's gonna release Darren today. I was just checking his vitals to make sure he wasn't running a fever or anything. But all systems are go, it would appear," the nurse explained, a broad smile on her face.

"That's great. Darren will be really relieved to hear that. He was starting to go a little stir crazy. When do you think he'll be released?"

"Oh, it'll be late this afternoon probably. The doctor still has to round on him one last time and sign Darren's discharge papers. And they'll want to get him up a bit first, get him walking around and make sure he's okay on his feet."

"Right," Chris replied, nodding. "And you'll go over all his medicines and stuff with me? He's going to stay at my house for a few days and I just want to make sure I know what I'm doing."

"Of course, sweetie. Trust me, it'll be overkill on that front. We have to go over all the paperwork and have you sign about a hundred forms and tell everything back to us to make sure you understand. You'll be an expert by the time we're done with you."

"Good," Chris sighed, sinking back into the chair, flexing his fingers to try to jump start his circulation without letting go of Darren's hand.

"Don't you worry, hon. Us nurses have seen how good you are with him. You're a natural. You're going to be just fine."

"Thanks..." Chris replied gratefully, surprised at how much the simple reassurance meant.

"But for now you should just relax and watch some TV or get some more rest while you can, okay? Nothing interesting is going to happen for a few hours and you'll be glad you got your rest later on," the nurse encouraged. "I've already got his vitals and I just hung his last dose of antibiotics, so no one should disturb you for a few hours. I'll hold his breakfast tray until you tell me he's ready for it."

"If you insist," Chris answered, smiling back at the nurse as he stretched out in the recliner again as best he could. "Thank you...I really appreciate your help."

"You're welcome, hon. You get your rest now."

By the time the door clicked softly behind the nurse, Chris was asleep again.

* * *

It had been nearly 6 PM by the time Darren was officially released from the hospital, and Chris could tell that the long day of waiting and anticipation had worn Darren out. Chris shooed Darren into bed as soon as they arrived at his house, insisting that Darren stay in Chris' bedroom rather than the guest room, explaining that the attached bathroom would cut down on the walking Darren would have to do. Chris coaxed Darren into eating a little chicken noodle soup and settled him in bed, instructing Darren to call or text him if he woke up and needed anything, making sure his cell phone was on the nightstand within easy reach. Then Chris gave Darren his evening pain medication, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking his hair until he fell asleep. After Chris was sure Darren was sleeping soundly, he retired to the guest room, being sure to leave both bedroom doors ajar so he could hear Darren if he called for him. Chris was out as soon as he crawled into the guest bed, barely having time to dig out his disposable contacts before the fatigue overtook him.

Hours later, Chris blinked awake, shifting slightly in the dim light as he reached for his alarm clock on the bedside table, moving to turn it off instinctively. He frowned as his fingers met only air, turning his head fully towards the nightstand as his eyes started to adjust to the dark room, the only light coming from a sliver of pale moonlight between the blinds. He turned, seeing a small battery operated alarm clock instead of his larger Bose iPod dock and alarm clock, the gears finally clicking into place as he remembered he was sleeping in the guest bedroom so that Darren could sleep in his bedroom. Chris lay in the bed for a moment, confused as to why he was suddenly awake at 3:45 am when clearly no alarm had gone off. He listened to the quietness of the house, wondering if Darren had called for him, but the house was still and there were no texts or missed calls from Darren on his phone. After a moment or two, Chris' bladder began urgently making its need known, and Chris clumsily climbed from the bed, tiptoeing down the hall towards the guest bathroom. After peeing for what seemed like at least five minutes (clearly Chris needed to work on drinking fewer Diet Cokes before bed), Chris padded back down the hall, deciding to poke his head into his room to make sure Darren was still sleeping and didn't need anything.

When he approached his bedroom, the door was still ajar as Chris had left it. But before Chris even stepped over the threshold, he knew something was wrong by the soft whimpering noises he could hear. He hurried into the bedroom, working his way towards the bed by memory and sound cues since it was impossible to see anything in the darkness.

"Darren?" he called out tentatively, his stomach twisting at what sounded like muffled sobs.

"Chris?" Darren asked, startled, his voice hoarse and shaky sounding. "S-s-sorry, I didn't...mean to wake you up."

"Yeah, it's me. And you didn't...I got up to go to the bathroom. Are you okay? I'm going to turn on a lamp, alright? Close your eyes for a sec. It's gonna be bright," Chris warned, as his hand finally bumped against the lampshade of the lamp situated on his nightstand, nearly knocking it over in his haste to get to Darren.

Chris winced at the brightness as the lamp was switched on, starbursts erupting across his field of vision as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light. When he could finally see again, he felt sick at the scene in front of him.

Darren was curled up in the fetal position on the edge of the bed, his hand clutching his side, and his face tense with obvious pain. Worse still were the tear-stains tracking down his cheeks and his clammy brow and sweat-dampened shirt.

"Darren!" Chris breathed, horrified. "Honey, why didn't you wake me up? You look awful." He leaned forward briefly, stroking a hand across Darren's cheek and wiping away tears.

"M'okay," Darren mumbled, knowing he was fooling no one.

"Clearly," Chris said, rolling his eyes. "Seriously Darren, I told you to just call or text me and I'd be here in a second. Why didn't you?"

"Didn't wanna wake you up," Darren sighed. "I thought the pain would go away and I'd just go back to sleep.."

"Okay, you get how stupid that is, right?" Chris admonished. "Darren, you know you can't..." Chris trailed off, stopping himself. "I'll lecture you after I get you your medicine, okay?" He stooped, wincing a little at how pathetic Darren looked, dropping a quick kiss to his hair. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

Darren nodded, totally spent.

Chris turned back towards Darren as a thought occurred to him. "You gotta eat something with your pills. Crackers or applesauce?"

Darren groaned, making a face.

"I know, I know...but I really don't want you puking all over my duvet, okay?" Chris replied sympathetically. "You just have to eat a little.."

"Applesauce then, I guess," Darren finally chose.

"Okay, I'll be right back. Don't move. Not an inch, got it?" Chris commanded.

"Yes sir," Darren groaned. "Hurry?"

Darren was still in the same position Chris left him in when Chris returned, looking every bit as miserable as Chris remembered. Chris helped Darren sit up and handed him his pills and a bottle of water. Darren frowned at the pills in the paper cup, looking back at Chris with a confused expression.

"Two?"

"Yes. Problem?"

I thought I was only supposed to take one?" Darren asked.

"It says 'take one to two pills' on the bottle, and this clearly looks like a time where one might not cut it. Just take your pills so you can feel better, okay? I don't like seeing you like this."

Darren nodded, swallowing his pills obediently.

Chris took the water bottle and empty paper cup back from Darren, passing him a small cup of applesauce and a spoon. "Eat up," he directed.

"Ugh," Darren groaned. "Chris, don't wanna."

"You also don't want to throw up your pills in a half hour. C'mon Darren, just a few bites."

Darren sank back against the pillows with a moan. "Can't. Too tired. Don't think I can sit up any longer."

"Fine," Chris sighed. "Move over," he continued, gesturing towards Darren's legs.

Darren looked confused, but slid over a bit, making room for Chris on the bed.

Chris perched on the side of the mattress, picking up the applesauce from where Darren had left it on the nightstand, peeling off the foil lid before picking up the spoon. He scooped a small amount onto the spoon and leaned towards Darren. "Open up," he commanded.

"Chris, what?" Darren asked, embarrassed. "No no, you don't have to do that. I just don't feel like eating right now."

"Nope," Chris said unmoved. "You said you were too tired to eat, but you need to, so problem solved. As we've already discussed, I'm really not in the mood to clean vomit off my duvet, so I'll say it again: Open up."

"Fine," Darren said at last, his cheeks still flaming. "But uh, let's keep this one between you and me, okay?"

"Trust me, this is one anecdote I'll be in no rush to share," Chris reassured. "Now eat your food," he demanded, extending the spoon towards Darren's slightly parted lips.

Darren gamely ate a few bites that way, wrinkling his nose a bit but not protesting otherwise. After three or four spoonfuls, Chris nodded, satisfied, putting the remaining applesauce back on the nightstand.

Darren slumped back against the pillows fully, obviously spent. "That was...interesting," he said at last, needing to break the tension. "Every time I think I've killed whatever trace of my dignity was left, I find some new basement of embarrassment, I swear."

Chris couldn't help the snort of laughter that snuck out. "I thought that was gone for good after the Disney songs?" he teased gently.

"Oh god, Chris. Don't remind me. I'm going to be spending the next five years trying to pay you back as it is..." Darren whined, hiding his face with his hands

"Not necessary," Chris answered fondly. "I don't mind taking care of you. I just wish you'd figure that out and stop doing stupid things like white knuckling it without pain meds for hours on end so I can get my beauty rest."

"Fair enough..." Darren said tiredly. "That was pretty stupid, huh?"

"The stupidest. But I'd expect nothing less from you..." Chris replied after a moment.

"Ouch. I think there's an insult in there somewhere, but I'm too tired to find it," Darren mumbled.

"Tired, huh? Feeling any better yet?" Chris asked, gazing down at him.

"Not really."

"Sorry," Chris began with a sympathetic wince. "You will soon though."

"Promise?" Darren asked, his voice small.

"I promise. Now we just need to find something to pass the time until then."

"As we've established, I'm full of nothing but bad ideas lately, so it's all riding on you, Colfer. Where shall we begin?" Darren prompted.

"Uhh, how about we start with 'scoot over' because I'm really cold," Chris replied, nudging Darren a little.

Darren's smile was impossibly bright in the the dim light as he carefully made his way towards the center of Chris' giant California king-sized bed, leaving space for Chris to lay down beside him.

Chris slid in beneath the warm duvet, leaving Darren plenty of room, still unsure as to where the physical boundaries now stood with Darren out of the hospital and on his way to recovery. Chris needn't wondered for long because almost immediately Darren wound his way around him, all clinging limbs just as he had been in the hospital. Darren rubbed his cheek against the soft flannel of Chris' henley t-shirt as he pillowed his head on Chris' chest. Chris sighed, also relieved as he sank into the familiar embrace. After a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around Darren's waist, resting his hand against the small of Darren's back, frowning at what he felt.

"Uhh, Darren?"

"Hmm, yeah Chris?" came Darren's sleepy reply.

"Not sure how to ask this, but you didn't...uh, wet the bed by chance?" Chris stuttered.

"Wait, wha-? No, no...I don't...did I? Wait, why are you asking that?" Darren blurted in a rush.

"Your shirt is like...soaking wet," Chris explained.

"Oh god, Chris! Way to give me a freaking heart attack. No, definitely didn't wet the bed. Haven't you heard the expression 'breaking out in a cold sweat' before? You know, the kind that happens when it feels like your insides are trying to burst their way out of your side?" Darren rambled, by way of explanation.

"Ah, that would..." Chris started, between fits of laughter. "Yes good.." he tried again. "Right, much more logical explanation..." he gasped.

"Chris, I swear to god...do you even know how the human body works? Why would  _my shirt_  be wet? That makes no sense," Darren retorted, also biting back laughter.

"It was late and you were wet and this is a brand new mattress and I was just...making sure?" Chris finally managed.

"And  _I'm_  the one with the bad ideas, huh?" Darren teased.

"Hey, you said it. Not me," Chris answered.

"But you  _implied_  it, which is just as bad," Darren scolded.

Chris drew a quick breath at the familiar wording, thinking of the other things he'd implied, intentionally or otherwise.

"Chris, I was kidding," Darren finally spoke when Chris was quiet for a little too long.

"I know, I know..." Chris covered, shaking his head slightly. "I was just thinking we should get you out of that shirt, because it's wet and I'm cold and..."

"And gross?" Darren supplied helpfully.

"Something like that," Chris answered. "Want me to grab you a clean shirt from your bag?"

"Not really," Darren answered. "I'm hot and I don't usually sleep in shirts anyways."

After a moment of silence, Darren spoke again. "Wait, or is that weird? Is that okay?"

Chris cleared his throat. "Uhh, totally up to you. It's your torso after all. I was just thinking I should go grab the air mattress anyways."

"Okay," Darren answered, only half-listening, his mind trying to come up with an appropriate way to ask Chris to help him take his shirt off without it sounding like bad porn, since he wasn't sure he could manage it in his current state. "Wait," he called, after a second's pause. "Why the air mattress?"

"Well, you obviously can't sleep alone given how poorly it turned out this time, so I figured I'd set up the air mattress for me on the floor. That way I'm right here if you need something," Chris explained, feeling a bit awkward.

"Okay, that's ridiculous. You've got a gigantic bed that could fit an entire football team. And it's  _your_  bed for crying out loud. Just sleep here."

"Are you sure?" Chris asked nervously. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It's fine, Chris. We've shared a bed before, you know. In the hospital for one. If you didn't hurt me then, you aren't going to hurt me now, okay?"

"Okay," Chris finally nodded, satisfied.

"Now are you going to help me take this sweaty shirt off or what? Because even I have to admit it's a bit gross..." Darren requested, trying for casual.

"Oh...sure Dare," Chris answered, his voice sounding far breathier than he would've liked. Chris pushed up to a sitting position, biting his lip as he looked down at Darren, taking in the charged moment that passed between them.

"Here, let's sit you up," Chris directed, sliding an arm behind Darren's neck and shoulders and slowly helping him raise into a sitting position. "Okay?" he asked when Darren was sitting up, feeling Darren lean against him.

"Give me a sec," Darren said tightly, burying his face in Chris' shoulder.

"Still hurts?" Chris asked sympathetically, rubbing Darren's back.

"Yeah, moving is...not...so fun...right now," Darren managed tightly.

"Take your time..." Chris encouraged. "Your pain meds should be kicking in soon."

"Okay," Darren said after a minute, letting out a long exhale. "Let's do this: shirt off and then horizontal again, please?"

"On it," Chris spoke. He shifted his hand, curling one arm around Darren's waist to keep him steady while the other hand reached for the hem of Darren's damp undershirt. Chris couldn't help but wince as he had to peel the sweat-dampened material from where it was plastered to Darren's skin, reminding Chris of the many minutes, possibly hours, Darren had spent suffering to keep from inconveniencing Chris. He got the undershirt over Darren's head with minimal fuss, tossing it aside before getting Darren settled back on the pillows, noticing even in the dim light from the bedside lamp that Darren was starting to look a little green.

Chris sat back against the headboard, looking down at Darren and waiting for Darren's breathing to even out. Darren was biting his lip and Chris could see him pressing his arm against his bare side, the stark white of the bandage standing out against Darren's tanned skin. "You okay?" he finally asked worriedly, feeling something hot twist in his stomach at the tiny shake of head he received in return.

"Darren?" Chris tried again. "What's wrong?"

"Don' feel so good," Darren moaned quietly.

"Are you going to be sick?" Chris asked urgently, already cursing himself for not making sure Darren ate more with his medication.

"No," Darren groaned. "Don't think so...just  _hurts._ "

"I know, I know..." Chris sighed. "Not to be a dick, but this is why you shouldn't wait to take your medicine, okay?"

"Okay," Darren replied wearily. It was quiet for a minute before Darren suddenly went rigid. " _Chris,"_ he whimpered.

"I'm here," Chris answered, dropping a hand to Darren's hair, stroking gently. "What can I do?"

Darren's voice was barely above a whisper. "Hold me?"

Chris drew a sharp breath, the full weight of Darren's request hitting him this time. Because this was different. This wasn't drugged to the gills Darren, this was  _his_ Darren. Shirtless and in his bed. Asking for comfort from Chris' arms. And it was getting harder and harder to deny that it meant something. Even harder to deny was how Chris' body responded, immediately wanting nothing more than to comfort Darren in precisely the same way.

So Chris did, sliding down to the pillow next to Darren before he lost his nerve. "C'mere," he whispered, grateful that the darkness hid his blush. Darren wound his way around Chris for the second time that night, limbs clinging even more desperately this time. Darren's bare chest was pressed against Chris' side, the heat from his body warming Chris, even through the thin cotton of his henley t-shirt. Darren settled his head into the hollow below Chris' collarbone, and Chris couldn't breathe for a moment with the realization of just how well they  _fit_  together. Chris rested his chin against Darren's mussed curls, unable to resist placing a quick kiss to the crown of his hair. Darren sighed, resting his hand on Chris' stomach and snuggling into the embrace.

"Better?" Chris asked, his voice low.

"Much," Darren whispered. It was quiet for another moment, and then Darren's voice broke through the silence, sounding tentative. "This is...really nice," he started. "Being with you like this, I mean..."

Chris stopped breathing, his hand momentarily stilling from where it had been idly twisting the curls at the nape of Darren's neck. The silence stretched out and Chris could feel Darren holding himself rigid, waiting. But Chris wasn't sure how to explain how much he agreed, how the way that their bodies slotted together felt more right than anything else he'd even done or ever experienced. There were so many feelings that Chris couldn't put into words, feelings that made his chest warm and his skin tingle with every point of contact on Darren's body.

"Yeah," Chris said at last. "It really is." Chris felt Darren's body go lax atop his, Darren's relief palpable. It made Chris feel braver, knowing that Darren was just as nervous to speak up about whatever was going on between them as Chris was. Emboldened, Chris decided to try a confession of his own.

"I'm glad that it was me...that you called. I – I like getting to take care of you," Chris admitted.

Chris swore he could  _feel_  Darren smiling up at him. "You were the only one I wanted there," Darren replied softly.

Chris' whole body felt warm again, his chest flooded with the same strange longing he remembered from the hospital. It was strange, having Darren mere inches away, literally wrapped in his arms, and yet to still feel like it wasn't enough, like he still needed  _more._ In fact, Chris was starting to wonder, when it came to Darren, if it would possible to ever truly have enough.

Darren sighed again, this time sounding relieved rather than miserable.

"You doing okay?" Chris asked.

"Yeah," Darren hummed. "I think the pain meds have finally kicked in." Chris could hear the slight slur to Darren's words, and could feel Darren's body sink into his a bit more as Darren gave into the fatigue.

"Good...You should get some rest, honey," Chris encouraged, his fingers gliding over Darren's hair again and again, trying to lull him to sleep.

"You too," Darren mumbled.

"That's the plan," Chris whispered back. "Now close your eyes."

"Yes'ir," Darren muttered sleepily. "Night, Chris. Love you..."

Chris felt himself freeze, still not used to hearing those words come from Darren's lips, somehow still unsure about the meaning of Darren's frequent declarations of love, even after all this time.

Before Chris could come up with a response, Darren spoke again, leaving little doubt as to his true intentions. "I really do, you know..."

And as Darren drifted off to sleep, the last thing he heard was a soft, reverent whisper.  _Me too._

* * *

Chris was the first to wake the next morning, just as pale light was beginning to peek in beneath the venetian blinds. As Chris' eyes blinked open, he immediately knew something palpable had shifted. The first sign was the way Darren was curled up against his chest, even in sleep looking for all the world as if there was no place he'd rather be. But what really rendered Chris speechless was seeing his hand intertwined with Darren's, their fingers locked together and resting against Darren's bare chest, Chris' palm right over Darren's heart. Chris had no idea when that had happened or who'd initiated it, but he knew he felt almost stupidly grateful for Darren in that moment, shuddering as an instinctive, almost feral possessiveness overtook him as he looked back at Darren, still sleeping obliviously, and thought:  _mine._

Chris would've been content to lay that way for hours, reveling in the press of Darren all around him, letting his body be warmed by the heat from Darren's skin and marveling all over again at just how well they fit together. But Darren clearly had other ideas, sighing softly and shifting a bit atop Chris only minutes later. Darren's nose brushed against Chris' chin as he turned his head upwards, yawning as his eyes slowly fluttered open and grinning widely as the first thing he saw was Chris staring down at him.

"Mhmm...morning," Darren rumbled, his voice tantalizingly low.

"Morning, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?" Chris greeted Darren with a grin of his own.

Darren shifted almost imperceptibly, considering, before he answered Chris. "I feel...okay," he said at last, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Okay? That's would be a big improvement on last night," Chris spoke with a wide smile. "Are you hurting at all? Be honest."

"I'm...sore but it's a lot better than yesterday," Darren answered truthfully.

"Good...how about some breakfast and then I'll get you your medicines?" Chris suggested.

Darren wrinkled his nose. "Food...blerg," he groaned with a wry grin.

Chris rolled his eyes fondly. "How about this - I'll give you some options and you can tell me which ones sound the least awful, okay?"

"Fiiiiiine," Darren huffed exaggeratedly, unable to hide his grin.

"Cereal?" Chris began.

"Gross."

"Bagel and cream cheese?" Chris tried again.

"Ugh," Darren grunted.

"Eggs and toast?"

Darren tilted his head to the side, thinking. "That sounds only mildly disgusting - I think we have a winner."

Chris giggled. "Excellent...I'm glad my cooking will be only mildly disgusting. You want breakfast in bed? Or I could help you get set up on the couch if you want a change of scenery?"

"Yes please," Darren replied. "Couch time sounds good. Maybe we could watch a movie after I choke down some eggs?"

"Perfect," Chris spoke. He was quiet for a moment, reluctant to get up, already a little in love with cuddling with Darren.

"Hey Chris?" Darren finally called hesitantly. "Not to rush you or anything, but I really need to pee and I'm not sure I'm quite up to leap-frogging over you just yet."

"Oh...right!" Chris exclaimed, his voice a touch too high, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Of course, let me just..." he trailed off, attempting to extricate his hand from Darren's grasp and sit up. Chris' embarrassment was tempered by Darren giving his hand a quick squeeze before he released it. Chris put his hand on Darren's shoulder, intending to help slide him off of Chris and over to the pillow so he could help him up when Darren surprised him again, tilting his head to plant a quick kiss on Chris' cheek.

"What – what was that for?" Chris sputtered, completely thrown off guard.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

Chris decided it was best to just give up on hiding his embarrassment at this point, feeling the blush creep across his whole body. Instead, he decided to focus on getting himself and Darren upright. Chris started by pushing up to a sitting position, stretching wide, arching his back and rolling his neck, hearing the pops and creaks that spoke of too many nights spent sleeping in the terrible hospital recliner instead of a proper bed.

"Are you sure you're human?" Darren asked. "Because you sound like you could use an oil can on those joints, I swear."

"Haha, very funny. But I seem to remember someone being in a rush just a second ago?" Chris teased back.

"You raise a good point... Help me up?" Darren requested.

Chris nodded. "Come here," he prompted, reaching for Darren. Darren rolled onto his uninjured side and extended his hand to Chris and together they slowly swung Darren into a sitting position.

"Okay?" Chris asked, keeping an arm securely looped around Darren's shoulders as he felt Darren tremble slightly beneath his hand.

"Mhmm yeah," Darren mumbled. "Just cold..." He leaned into Chris a little bit more. "You're warm."

"Yeah," Chris sighed. "Want a shirt?"

Darren nodded, gesturing towards his overnight bag sitting on an armchair in the corner of Chris' room.

Chris returned a second later with one of Darren's many Starkid t-shirts, holding it up for his approval. "Good?"

"Perfect," Darren breathed, obediently lifting his arms and letting Chris help him into the t-shirt.

"Okay," Chris said when Darren was dressed. "Bathroom. Need help?"

Now it was Darren's turn to blush. "Just uh...help me get up and I think - I think I can take it from there."

Chris smiled, looping an arm around Darren's waist and helping him stand up. He held onto Darren for a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary, telling himself he was just making sure Darren wasn't wobbly on his feet.

"You good?"

Darren nodded. "You can go start breakfast if you want... I'll meet you on the couch in a few?"

"Okay, but don't like...fall over or anything. Call me if you need me, alright?" Chris commanded.

Darren rolled his eyes. "I can walk, you know... Not everyone is as big of a klutz as you, after all."

"Riii-iight, very believable coming from the person who practically broke his toe filming a dance number that was entirely seated," Chris teased right back.

"I hate you..." Darren groaned.

"I'm just saying – pot, kettle. We're both klutzes. So be extra careful. I don't want have to bring you back to the hospital and tell the nurses I broke you," Chris said, making his way toward the door.

Darren gave Chris an exaggerated salute, hunching over a bit as he slowly shuffled his way towards Chris' private bathroom.

"Aye aye, Cap'n! And try not to let my sexy old man walk turn you on too much, 'kay? I know how you love those octogenarians."

Chris didn't stop laughing until he reached the kitchen.

* * *

By the time Darren returned from the bathroom, Chris had the couch all set up with a mound of pillows and a warm quilt. He'd even helpfully laid out a few movies he thought Darren would like on the coffee table before heading to the kitchen to scramble a few eggs and make some toast.

Chris poked his head into the living room when he heard Darren coming, giggling a little at Darren's hunched over posture. "You gonna make it, grandpa?" he teased gently, rounding the couch to give Darren a hand.

Darren lifted his head and Chris could see he was red-faced and sweating slightly, looking utterly spent. "Was it...necessary...for you to...have the world's...longest hallway?" Darren huffed.

"Aww poor baby," Chris cooed. "Come here." He slid his arm around Darren's waist, letting Darren put most of his weight on him as Chris helped Darren to the couch, lowering him gently. Chris sat beside Darren for a second, waiting for his breathing to even out. "You okay?" he asked at last, when Darren finally stopped panting

Darren nodded. "It's ridiculous how out of shape I am though. I never thought walking down a hallway could be so tiring. Although in my defense, the hallway has to be...what? A mile? A mile and a half? I mean, really Chris? You need to put some rest stops in that thing."

"You're ridiculous. My house isn't THAT big," Chris admonished.

"No, it's quite swanky and you know it. Nothing but the best for Golden Globe winning star Chris Colfer," Darren replied, sinking back into the couch. "Is it too early for a nap?" he asked, half serious.

Chris laughed. "That's debatable. But let's get you some food and your meds first, okay? Speaking of which, your eggs are probably burning, so just chill out on the couch for a sec and I'll be right back."

"As you wish," Darren mumbled, resting his head on the armrest and pulling his feet up onto the couch.

Chris returned a short while later with a small tray holding a plate of scrambled eggs, two slices of toast, a tiny pot of jam, and a glass of orange juice. He set it on the coffee table before unwrapping silverware from a linen napkin and setting it on the tray along with Darren's food.

"Are you sure you don't run a bed and breakfast inn in your spare time?" Darren asked, amused. "Because this is a bit fancy for little old me, don't you think?"

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with enjoying nice things," Chris scolded without any heat. "Not all of us like living like we're still in college, after all."

"Touche," Darren answered.

"Now eat your food before it gets cold," Chris commanded.

"Chriiiiis," Darren whined, still stretched out on the couch. "I'm tired."

"Do you want me to feed you again? Because if you force me to, I'm making airplane sounds this time," Chris warned.

"Ugh fine...gimme," Darren groaned, reaching for the plate of food.

"I thought so," Chris crowed, handing him his food. "Now eat it all up like a big boy and I'll let you watch a movie later, okay?"

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you," Darren muttered under his breath, blushing furiously as he speared a forkful of eggs.

"A likely story..." Chris replied.

Chris and Darren remained that way for the next ten minutes or so, knees pressed together as they sat side by side on the couch, munching on breakfast and bantering back and forth. It didn't take long before Chris' face started to ache a bit from smiling so hard, the flutters in his stomach stubbornly refusing to die down. It was strange really, Chris couldn't help but think. He and Darren were just hanging out, chatting on his couch just as they had many times before. But it wasn't the same. It was clear something had shifted, some dam had broken inside Chris, bringing whole new layers of meaning to even the simplest of experiences with Darren. Chris just hoped that he wasn't alone in his feelings, because he could see how trying to pretend, trying to go back to before, would break him.

Every time Chris felt the panic start to well up, he forced his mind back to the night before and to the last words Darren spoke before falling asleep.  _I love you._ And later...  _I really do, you know?_ And now, all Chris could do was hope that in the light of day, Darren wasn't going to take those words back.

When Chris came back to himself, Darren was gazing at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Darren asked.

Chris just smiled, his stomach flipping at the wide grin he received in return.

"No seriously...what are you thinking about?" Darren asked, curious, his gaze still locked on Chris.

Chris bit his lip, trying to work up the courage to tell the truth. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one persistent idea kept pushing to the top, practically screaming at him.  _Say something. Just tell him. Tell him you love him too, you idiot!_

He couldn't do it. Chris looked away, rubbing at his neck and collarbone nervously, fumbling with the movies on the coffee table. "I was – uh – I was just thinking about which movie we should watch," he covered lamely.

When Chris finally looked back at Darren, he could've sworn Darren looked just the tiniest bit...disappointed? Chris shook his head slightly, banishing the ridiculous thought. Darren couldn't read his mind. Chris was probably only imagining Darren's disappointment because of how badly Chris wanted it to be true.

"Hmm," Darren considered. "Let's see here...what are my options?"

"I've got almost anything you could want, between my vast DVD collection and Netflix," Chris replied. "But I was kinda in the mood for a musical... Any of these look good?" he asked, gesturing to the assorted musicals he'd laid out for Darren to peruse.

Darren leaned forward, wincing a tiny bit as he shifted on the couch, and flipped through the DVDs. Chris hand stuttered at Darren's momentary expression of pain, unable to resist the urge to lay a hand on Darren's shoulder, stroking gently.

Darren leaned into Chris' touch, seeming grateful for the comfort. "Ooh," Darren exclaimed a second later. "How about Rent? It's been forever since I saw that."

"Perfect," Chris answered, taking the DVD from Darren and putting it into the DVD player before grabbing the remote and sitting back down on the couch.

"Cold?" Chris asked, seeing how Darren was curled into himself.

"A little," Darren murmured, almost shyly.

"Want a blanket?" Chris asked, settling back against the cushions next to Darren.

"You're warm..." Darren spoke, smiling up at Chris. "I'd rather just have you..."

Chris swore his heart stopped for second. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe with how badly he wanted to kiss Darren. But he settled for lifting his arm, gesturing towards Darren. Darren scooted over, falling into now familiar embrace, leaning against Chris' shoulder, his head resting in the hollow beneath Chris' collarbone, their bodies fitting perfectly together. Chris dropped his arm back down, curling it in just slightly to pull Darren closer to him before resting his hand lightly on Darren's forearm. Darren sighed contentedly, tucking his feet underneath him and rubbing his cheek against Chris' shirt. After a moment, Chris felt Darren's forearm shift under his light hold until Darren was reaching up for Chris' hand, curling his fingers around Chris' own so that their fingers were intertwined, making it hard to tell where Darren's hand stopped and Chris' began.

"Comfy?" Chris whispered.

"Very," Darren murmured appreciatively.

"Want to start the movie?"

"Of course. But don't be offended if I fall asleep on you again, especially after my medicine kicks in. I wasn't kidding about that nap earlier. I promise I'll try not to drool on you too much."

Chris smiled, pressing play on the DVD and settling his cheek against Darren's hair. "Wouldn't be the first time," he teased gently.

Darren snorted out a laugh, the vibrations from his chest tickling softly across Chris' belly.

Chris and Darren both fell silent as the movie began. Chris quickly skipped over the various trailers and advertisements and finally there was only a dimly lit stage with eight spotlights. Chris hummed the opening bars of music under his breath.

" _Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear,"_  Darren joined in, his voice pitch perfect.

Chris startled slightly, unprepared for Darren's breaking into song. Chris lifted his head from where it had been resting atop Darren's, tilting into the side and gazing down at Darren with a quizzical expression.

"What?" Darren asked, amused. "Do I sound  _that_  bad?"

"No no," Chris answered, rolling his eyes. "You sound perfect, as always. But is that such a good idea – the singing?"

"Uhh, I don't remember any specific singing-based restrictions in my discharge papers, so..." Darren trailed off.

"It just seems like... Oh, I don't know. It doesn't hurt?" Chris mumbled, already feeling a little silly.

"Singing? No, it doesn't hurt. And geez Chris," Darren exclaimed, nudging Chris in the ribs with his elbow, "you've got to stop fussing over me so much. I'm gonna be fine, you know. I think you might have my mom beat in the worrying department."

"Exactly my point," Chris scoffed. "I'm  _on_  mom duty, and I really don't want to know what your mom would do to me if I let you do something stupid like pop out your stitches trying to belt songs from 'Rent,' okay? Because even you have to admit - that would be a hard one to explain."

"Fair enough..." Darren chuckled. "How about this? I'll make you a deal. You start the song over so we can sing it properly, and I'll let you do Joanne's part for now. No high C's until the stitches come out. It wasn't in the doctors' instructions or anything, but I'm sure it was implied."

"Like you could ever hit a high C," Chris snarked back, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"And you can?" Darren dared.

"Umm yes, obviously. It's like you don't know me at all..." Chris preened.

"Oh, it's on, Colfer. Show me what you got..."

* * *

Darren didn't last long after their initial duet on Seasons of Love, having just enough time to be suitably impressed with Chris' display of vocal prowess before he promptly passed out, obviously needing the rest. Chris lowered the volume on the TV and covered Darren with the quilt, tucking it around his feet to keep him warm while he slept. Chris settled into the folds of the couch, Darren still wrapped securely in his arms. Chris pressed a kiss to Darren's forehead before resting his cheek atop Darren's hair, only half-watching the movie, all the while wishing he could quiet the thoughts in his head long enough to make some sense of them. The one thought that kept persistently rising above the rest was a simple one: just how much Chris loved having Darren in his arms and how terrified he was that it was all going to end very soon. It was nearly impossible for Chris to enjoy the present moment for his doubts, but equally impossible to think about anything else aside from Darren's warmth and smell and the way his soft sighs and exhalations of breath were ticking Chris' neck deliciously. If Darren didn't feel the same way, if his clinginess and frequent confessions of love were a side effect of his medications and current condition, rather than a desire for something more, something real with Chris, Chris knew his heart would break. And Chris was certain he couldn't bear it.

Chris was so lost in his own thoughts that it took him several minutes to realize Darren was awake again. Not just awake, but watching Chris carefully, frowning at the palpable anxiety he could see playing across Chris' face. Finally, Darren couldn't keep still any longer, sighing as he stretched out his legs a bit, startling Chris.

"Oh!" Chris squeaked, jumping slightly. "You're awake! Hey..." Chris felt heat surge through his face, feeling as if he'd been caught doing something illicit, as if Darren could somehow read his mind.

"Hello..." Darren answered calmly, a bemused grin on his face. "You were really thinking hard, huh?"

"Hmm? Uh yeah, I guess. Just uh – coming up with some ideas for my next book," Chris rambled, lying poorly.

"Oh yeah? Anything worth sharing?"

"Nope! Nothing interesting..." Chris answered lightly, his voice still a notch too high and breathy. "What about you? Did you sleep well? Are you hurting at all? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm...fine," Darren replied slowly, still looking at Chris with a slightly puzzled expression. "Good, even."

"Oh, that's great. You don't...you don't – uh, need anything?" Chris asked, wondering if he sounded as awkward as he felt.

Darren's eyes locked on Chris before he replied. "Nope...I've got everything I need right here." As if to punctuate his statement, Darren squeezed Chris' hand, shooting a jolt of electricity down Chris' spine.

Chris was struck speechless by the intensity of Darren's gaze, so he just nodded dumbly.

" _Chris..._ " Darren whispered with obvious meaning, turning his head so that he could gaze up at Chris fully.

"Yeah?" Chris asked, the pulse thudding dully in his ears as he hoped, prayed even, that he was going to like the words that came next.

"Listen, about what I said last night..." Darren began.

In the seconds Darren paused before continuing, a litany of thoughts passed through Chris' mind.  _Oh, please don't say you didn't mean it. Please don't take it back. Please, Darren. Please don't break my heart._

"I was serious. I meant it. I've meant it every single time I said it, okay? I didn't want you to think that because I was on a bunch of medications or hurting or terrified that it wasn't real. Because it was. It  _is_  real," Darren amended, searching Chris' face. "It is to me anyways. But I just need to know... there's something here, right? It's not just me?"

Chris sucked in a breath so hard it made a slight whistling noise, his heart pounding loudly enough that he was sure Darren could hear it. "Oh god," Chris blurted out, his relief palpable. "Yes – I..." He stopped, taking in Darren's stricken expression. "Wait – I mean... _fuck_..no? What was the question? I – it's not just you Darren. That's what I'm trying to say...badly." Chris looked back at Darren, his eyes wide and watering slightly, breaking into a wide grin at the smile that erupted across Darren's face.

"Oh thank god..." Darren answered when he could breathe again. "You know, you're a little too good at almost giving me heart attacks. It's cruel, Chris."

Chris laughed, suddenly feeling so buoyant he wasn't sure how he hadn't flown away. "In my defense, it was a poorly worded question. Kinda hard to tell whether yes or no was the right answer, after all."

"Duly noted," Darren chuckled. "But yeah...so this  _thing_  we've got going on..."

"Yes, this  _thing,_ " Chris echoed.

"Which we've established is a mutual thing..." Darren continued.

"Yes, mutual. Very mutual," Chris grinned.

"Good. So what does that mean, exactly?" Darren asked.

"I have no idea..." Chris answered honestly. "Except that I really like being with you like this and I don't want to see it end."

"Agreed," Darren sighed appreciatively, impulsively leaning up to place a gentle kiss to the bridge of Chris' nose. "God, you are so cute."

"Naturally," Chris chuckled. "But  _focus_...there'll plenty of time to appreciate my cuteness later."

"Promise?" Darren practically growled, and want suddenly bloomed fierce in Chris' belly.

"Oh, it's a promise," Chris flirted back. "But back to the question at hand - what do  _you_  want?"

"You," Darren answered immediately, as if the answer was that simple. And Chris was starting to wonder if maybe it couldn't be.

"Okay," Chris breathed, nodding. "So we'll just keep doing... _this_."

"Sounds good to me. Although I should probably clarify..." Darren interjected.

"Hmm?" Chris asked, suddenly irrationally fearful.

"...I really don't expect you to feed me for the remainder of our relationship. I'd be okay with feeding myself from here on out. Or maybe even being the one to feed you from time to time. Like maybe I could take you out to dinner sometime soon?" Darren proposed, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Oh really now? Dinner, huh? Better be somewhere good. I seem to remember someone moaning about just how much he was going to owe me..." Chris smirked.

Darren tilted his head up, his warm breath tickling Chris' cheek as he whispered in Chris' ear. "I'll have you know I  _always_  pay my debts. Thoroughly."

Chris didn't even attempt to hide the sharp gasp Darren's words induced. "Well then," he said at last. "Better get started...no time to lose."

"Right," Darren replied, his eyes going dark and hungry. " _Right_...and where would you suggest that I begin?"

"Kiss me?" Chris pleaded hoarsely, desire coursing through his veins.

Darren nodded once, surging forward. "Your wish is my command."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…what did you think? Did you like the last chapter? Hopefully if I did my job properly, the ending paid off all the unresolved sexual tension between Darren and Chris in a way that felt real and believable given their circumstances. I've had to keep the ending to myself for way too long and I'm just dying to hear from you. So please, please, please take a minute and write a quick review to let me know what you thought of the last chapter or the fic as a whole. You'll make my week!
> 
> This fic has inadvertently turned into a verse, because I'm addicted to CrissColfer sick!fic and I wasn't quite ready to let this fic go. I've got a few oneshots that I've uploaded, and there will be an official sequel coming soon, set at the ice skating filming in Bryant Park. So be looking out for that. You can find a short preview over on my Tumblr: lovetheblazer.tumblr.com


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